


Reality

by PreRaphaelites



Series: A Kind of Miracle [2]
Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: Angst, But mostly kalagang, Cluster Feels, Cursing in other languages, Description of gunshot wound, F/M, Gun Violence, People Get Killed, Post-Canon, Sense8 Season 2 if it focused on Kala and Wolfgang and I wrote it, Wolfgang's Bratva family, so....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:30:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 85,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4777079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreRaphaelites/pseuds/PreRaphaelites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wolfgang and Kala meet in real life and work with the Cluster to try and take down BPO, but Wolfgang has to deal with another problem. </p><p>Picks up where "The End and the Beginning" leaves off.  Starts out as an angsty romance and spirals into an attempt to resolve Season 1 through Kala's and Wolfgang's POV. Original characters thrown in cause why not. Plus learn some Russian and German curse words (and a few other languages thrown in there somewhere).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I wasn't ready to say goodbye, either;-)  
> Rather than adding this on to the original story, I think the next chapters are better off on their own.
> 
> Comments are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

"Come with me."

An hour ago, Kala felt light-headed with relief.

Finally, _finally_  Wolfgang is here. And he is safe.

She saw him standing against the door to the restaurant. He had called her his beloved, his heart, and she had wanted to run to him, to hold his face in her hands and kiss him. She ached thinking of the days spent without knowing where he was, wondering if he would ever return to her. To _them_.

That was an hour ago.

Perhaps, if she had been alone, if she had just given in to instinct when she first saw him, she would still be in a state of relieved euphoria. But instead, she had time to think.

As Wolfgang watched, she plodded on with an awkward and painful conversation with Rajan. And her mind began to hum with the wrong Wolfgang had done to her. Her relief began to give way to a steadily-building sense of indignation.

And now, Kala looks up at Wolfgang with wide brown eyes that burn with the hurt and anger she feels. She is furious with him - he doesn't need to be connected to her to know exactly how furious she truly is- but his connection allows him to also know that it doesn't change how she feels about him, and it's the only thing giving him the courage to remain with her when she is like this. He is desperate for her to forgive him.

She is sitting on the corner of her bed as he stands propped up by her wardrobe, watching her cautiously. She/they had retreated to her bedroom after a painful discussion with her parents that had followed hard on the heels of her discussion with Rajan. She had explained that there would be no wedding.

Her father had been surprised but accepting, even as her mother gave a horrified cry and tried to assure her it was only nerves that made her hesitate. Kala had not seen the point in hiding the truth any longer, especially after she had admitted so to Rajan, so she told them: "It isn't nerves. There's someone else."

That set off an entirely new reaction from her father and an even more horrified gasp from her mother.

"Who is it? Is it someone from work? How did you meet this man? When could you have possibly met him? "

The very questions that Rajan had asked: Gentle Rajan, who had grown angry and upset with pain.

"It is no one from work. I met him quite by accident." Kala felt Wolfgang's hand rub against the small of her back, knew he stood behind her, could feel his heart beating with hers. "And I know that this is sudden, but I know what I feel for him; he feels the same way about me. At least," her breath hitched in her throat but otherwise she gave no sign of her distress, "he says he does. " She heard a soft " _scheisse_ " muttered behind her.  _Mein Herz, you know that I do_

She excused herself and headed straight to her room, ignoring Daya's frantic demand to know what just happened.

Alone, she locked the door and rounded on Wolfgang, her face flickering with all the emotions she could barely bring herself to express, foremost among them a fury that was not like Kala yet surely not unexpected. He could feel that it was fueled partly by the others' collective frustration as well: He felt the brief presence of Nomi and Lito - relieved but definitely unhappy with him - before they seemed to decide that it was Kala's right to harangue him first, and they were gone in an instant.

Wolfgang had waited quietly, patiently, although he was more nervous than he let on.

"How would you feel if I disappeared from you? " she asked at last, her arms wrapped protectively around herself, "if you knew I was in danger and you couldn't reach me? If the last thing I said to you was to move on and do the very thing you knew was wrong? If you knew -you could feel- that I, that I..." Kala stammered the words, defying Wolfgang to deny them, "wanted nothing more than to turn that gun on myself? How would you feel if those are the last things you know _I_  feel? "

A whisper of her memories passed through him: Internet searches for news of the events at his uncle's; her confusion on learning of his reported death, but knowing he was not dead. Sleepless nights and desperate prayers to Ganesha. Her anger and hurt and fear at his repeated rejection of her attempts to reach him, when all she wanted was to assure herself that he was not hurt, that he was safe.

Not so much from others, but from himself.

He catches a memory of Nomi, Lito, and Capheus coming to give her support, comfort; of Sun who teaches her to focus when she is too agitated. Images of her lab, working on finding a psychotropic drug, a blocker, to keep Whispers out of Will's mind. At least then she feels like she is doing something other than feeling sick with grief and worry.

An echo of his own pain mixed with hers seared through him, sharp and precise, and he feels guilty that he had given her so much to bear. He had been so sure that cutting her off was the best thing to do.

Wolfgang ran an agitated hand over his head and moved from her wardrobe. He wanted to hold her; was afraid she would reject him. She had every right to reject him. Instead, he said the first thing on his mind: "Come with me. "

Surprise temporarily replaces the anger in Kala's eyes. She gives a huff and shakes her head. Kala looks exhausted. The events of the evening have taken a toll, and she slumps a little on her bed.

"Where are you? " she asks. And then she looks up, eyes regarding the shabby motel room wearily, the television on some singing competition. _Eurovision_  pops in her head; Wolfgang's thoughts. She sits next to him on his bed, propped up against the pillows. Their bodies don't touch.

"Back in Berlin." He watches her profile, studiously avoiding looking at him, the light from the television making odd shadows across her face. It's still early here and the sun hasn't begun to set yet, although the weather was kind of shitty to begin with and the sun hadn't been out much at all. But Kala, sitting up on his bed, in this dark little room with its dark walls and dirty windows, transforms it with color in her soft yellow blouse and floral patterned skirt. He thinks that the sun is here.

"Should you be back here?" she asks, concern in her voice. "I know the authorities think you're dead, but are you safe? "

He shrugs, "I think so. " His eyes rove over her face hungrily, memorizing the high cheekbones, emphasized by the way her long, curly hair is drawn back from her face. Her eyebrows are drawn together, still upset with him, but he knows they arch perfectly over smoky, guileless brown eyes that he wishes would look at him, even in anger. She pulls in her full lower lip and his eyes are immediately drawn there.

"How do you know for sure? " Kala finally turns to him,and he is momentarily rendered speechless. She is beautiful, his beloved, and he is in deeper than he thought possible.

"Wolfgang, how do you know? " she asks again.

He shakes his head, frowning slightly, trying to concentrate and answer her without alarming her further. "The Polizei aren't looking too closely at what happened. My uncle was known to them. They think what happened is from a rival." He pauses, letting her catch glimpses of his uncle, the kind of life his uncle led, the kind of life Wolfgang refused because he hated Steiner and he hated being a Bogdanow. Kala gives a soft gasp and her eyes widen. Her hand reaches to grasp his, and he's surprised that she does so, knowing what she now knows. He holds it gently, turns it over and squeezes. "I switched my ID with one of the dead guards; his guards never have family. No one will know he's missing. And my uncle's business associates see this as an opportunity for them. There is already someone claiming to take over where my uncle left off. He isn't complaining. He may suspect the truth, but he isn't complaining. "

Kala nods slowly: It's an alien concept to her, this violent world. "Organized crime" is something she only knows in movies, knows exists outside her sheltered, law-abiding life in Mumbai. A shudder of fear rakes through her. She is still worried. "Are you staying here? "

Wolfgang smiles suddenly and it's Kala's turn to look transfixed, mesmerized by how much more youthful, more handsome he is when he does so. His eyes are a brilliant, pale blue. "Felix is awake," he says. "I'll stay until he can leave the hospital. We were talking about going elsewhere anyway."

Kala's face softens for the first time and she squeezes his hand. "I'm glad he's awake," she says simply, sincerely, and she can feel Wolfgang's rush of joy at sharing the news. She catches a memory of his visit that afternoon, sees Felix's tired eyes smile as he recognizes him and watches as Wolfgang holds Felix's hand as he talks of nothing and everything, even as Felix falls asleep. It will be alright.

Kala becomes aware that Wolfgang has grown still, watching her face, the smile still playing across his mouth, his eyes soft, but there is something more there, too.

She has been yearning to see him for so long.

"Don't ever do that again, " she says quietly, her eyes grave. "You aren't a monster. " His own gaze grows intense and heated. She feels the sudden prick of tears, and shakes her head, embarrassed that now, _now_  she is crying and can't seem to stop.

Wolfgang pulls the hand he holds gently to him, wraps it around his waist while his other hand reaches to tangle itself in her thick, dark hair, cupping her head gently to touch their foreheads together, bridging the small space between them.

"Kala...Kala...Don't cry, _Schatz_ , " he murmurs, his voice thick. He kisses first one salt-stained cheek, then another. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please forgive me. _Mein Herz_. " And he kisses her eyes and her nose and full, full mouth, gently, chastely, begging her to forgive him, mumbling endearments in German, until she breathes _yes_  to him, and he's so grateful that the kisses become less chaste, more hungry.

He has wanted her for so long. It was only her, thoughts and dreams of her, that kept him going. Her tears subside and her free hand creeps up to touch his face, as she'd wanted to do earlier.

"Wolfgang," she sighs into his mouth.

And halfway around the world he can hear a knock at her door. _No,_ he thinks, but it's too late, and their connection is gone.

_Fuck._

He gives a deep sigh, hitting his head deliberately back against the headboard. He wonders if he should go to her and knows he shouldn't. Not with his raging hard-on. He knows tonight that he doesn't have the self control to block her from appearing if he indulges in thoughts of her.

The timing of the applause coming from the television strikes him as funny, and he gives a small chuckle.

For the first time in forever, Wolfgang thinks his day wasn't bad at all.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala goes to Germany with some encouragement from Riley.

Kala sits on top of a grassy knoll. Her knees are drawn in front of her; she hugs them loosely and looks around. The wind is brisk and makes a warm day cooler than she's accustomed, but the sky is a beautiful cerulean blue, and it's lovely and peaceful and could be anywhere in the world. She has no idea where they are, other than a park. Very few people are around.

She sits beside Riley on this anonymous hill, watching her stroke Will's hair, humming softly while his head rests on her lap. He's awake, but he's also on nitrous oxide, making him a little giddy and high, and thus useless for the time being to Whispers. It seemed a more humane alternative to keeping him sedated and unconscious for days on end.

He's murmuring that he loves Riley, and Riley murmurs that she loves him too, smiling a little at how silly and unlike himself he sounds, although she knows his sentiment is real. She plants a gentle kiss on Will's forehead and he sighs, beginning to fall asleep. Riley continues humming a tune.

It's all so deceptively idyllic, but Kala feels the love that flows between them, and she smiles because it feels warm and gentle but strong. As if there is no doubt that they will overcome the problem of Whispers and BPO and keep the Cluster safe; that this moment in time is merely a bump in the journey that they make together. They are so sure of each other.

"Thank you for trying." Riley's voice is quiet, mindful of Will. "I know it's been difficult for you, but I'm glad that you and Wolfgang have made up. " And she smiles impishly, watching the blush that creeps across Kala's face. "You're good for him. "

Kala smiles back. She dips her head, a little embarrassed that they all know, but one day she'll come to terms with the fact that privacy as she once knew no longer exists.

"I'm in love with him," Kala says softly. And it feels good to make that admission out loud, testing the sound of it outside of her head. "I can't explain how he makes me feel." She looks up at the cloudless sky, feels the cool breeze, and simultaneously hears the rain outside her window. It is evening in Mumbai, and elsewhere she is in her bed early. It was only yesterday that she had ended her engagement with Rajan and reconciled with Wolfgang. She is still in a little shock.

Riley nods her head, her smile wistful. "I know, " she says, caressing Will's cheek.

"I'm sorry that I can't go back to the lab for a few days." Kala looks at Will's sleeping form and feels a stab of guilt. "It's too awkward right now. Rajan's very hurt." Rajan had called her first thing in the morning, just before she left, and asked if she wouldn't mind taking some days off from work. She wouldn't be charged the time, of course, but his work is his haven from home, where his father recovers from his injuries and his mother fusses about, and he would appreciate it if she could. "After all," he concludes, and his tone is artificially light, "if we'd been married during the first ceremony we'd still be on our honeymoon."

"It's ok, Kala." Riley looks at her with a faint smile. "Everyone is trying to help. You should take that time off." She tilts her head, and the impish look is back. "You should see him. It's different when you're there for real."

Kala smiles back at Riley. _Why not_? she thinks. And the next moment, before she loses her courage, she is getting up from her bed in Mumbai and checking the internet for the first flights out to Germany.

By lunch the next day, she has packed and run several errands, and not long after, over her parent's protests and Daya's amazement, Kala leaves to take an international flight, alone. She refuses to stop and consider what she's doing on a whim; if she does, she knows she'll never take the initiative.

Two days later, Kala arrives in Berlin.

She hails a cab at the airport and finds that she speaks German like a native. She gives the address of the motel that she hopes Wolfgang is still staying in: There are three near the hospital where Felix is. Guessing from the dearth of photos was difficult, but she picked the most likely one while she was booking her flight and reserved a three night stay. If she isn't in the same motel as Wolfgang, at least she's near Felix's hospital.

The cab ride is forty minutes long with traffic, and Kala almost falls asleep, but when the taxi pulls up in front of a generic, boxy building with modest neon letters advertising it is a motel - no name, just "motel" - her nerves jar her awake. It looks uninviting and cold.

Kala pays the driver and shuffles her carry-on, purse, and suitcase through the revolving door and into the lobby. She makes her way to the front desk and looks around. It is just after two in the afternoon, but there is no one about, including a clerk at the desk. She rings the bell and leans over the counter, trying to peer through to the room behind. _Three nights_ _._ Kala frowns and bites her lower lip in chagrin. She rings the bell again.

"Kala?"

It's a whisper, really, that voice that comes from behind her. She freezes a little, and her heart beats so quickly she can barely breathe.

But she somehow manages to turn around, and when she does, she looks right into pale blue eyes that are staring at her in surprise and some confusion, unsure whether she is really there.

"Hello," she says softly. He looks exactly as he does in his visits, only more vibrant: Like seeing a movie in high definition and then encountering the images in real life. He's slightly less disheveled than the last time she saw him -he shaved recently, although there is already a growth of stubble on his jaw - and certainly more handsome than she recalls. She gives him a tentative smile. "I couldn't stay in Mumbai. Rajan asked me to take some time off. And I could have stayed at home, but Riley suggested that I should come-"

"You're really here. "

It's a statement, not a question.

Kala's expression falters. He looks so serious, and she wonders if she made a huge mistake. She hasn't seen him since that first night, four days ago, although she did speak with him briefly, when she heard his voice in her bathroom asking if she was ok. He sounded exhausted -as he should be if it was three in the morning in Berlin - and she almost told him then that she was getting ready to see him, but she didn't.

Even though it was a statement, Kala answers him anyway: "I'm really here, Wolfgang."

Another heartbeat passes before he finally smiles- that rare, joyful smile that transforms him entirely- and his hands reach up to cup her face.

The physical contact causes an unexpected connection: For a fleeting moment, they exchange bodies, catch a glimpse of everything the other not only sees but feels. There is an echo of memory too, and a taste of each other's essence; what Kala would call a soul. It is so quick but so indelible that she can only look up at Wolfgang in wide-eyed amazement before the rush of another emotion pours over her. He drops his hands, shaken.

 _Wolfgang_.

"Come with me. "

She nods her head, and he takes her things from her. She'd almost forgotten she was toting her luggage about.

They go to an elevator and up to a third floor, walk down a small, ill-lit corridor and stop in front of a room at the end of the hallway without saying a word. He pulls out a key from his jacket and lets them both in, stopping first to turn a light on because the room is dim.

Kala looks around. Yes. This is the room.

Wolfgang puts her carry-on and purse (she smiles when she realizes he'd taken that, too) on top of an old stuffed chair and rolls the large suitcase beside them. He takes off his jacket, lays it on top of her bags, and stands there for a moment, unsure, and he looks so vulnerable that any doubt in her mind melts away.

"I wanted to surprise you," she says gently. He says nothing, and the irony isn't lost on her. "Is this the same demon," she asks, a hint of a laugh in her voice, "who told me with absolute certainty that I wanted him?"

He doesn't return her smile. He looks torn and haunted, and she isn't sure what to do.

Riley is there beside her. She leans into Kala's ear and places a hand to Kala's back: "Go to him," she says gently, encouragingly. "You know you must fight for him; he's his own worst enemy."

And then she's gone, so quickly that Kala is unsure whether Wolfgang even noticed her presence at all.

She can feel his tension. He's on a precipice, and she has the power to push him one way or another. So Kala gathers her courage and goes to him, and when she's close enough, she extends a hand, takes his firmly. This time there's no sudden connection. She draws him to her, their fingers interlocking. The reality of his hand feels...she has no words to describe the feel of that simple touch. It isn't simple. And right now, she is almost overwhelmed by the feelings coursing from him through their joined hands. She hopes he can feel hers just as strongly.

"You can't run from me in person, Wolfgang." She smiles again because she knows it's what he'd do if they were just visiting. Just as she'd seen into him, he'd seen into her, and he is wracked again with doubt that he deserves to be with her.

"Kala," he sighs, and there is a world of longing and sadness in that voice. She thinks it could break her heart.

"It's not whether you are worthy of me or not," she says softly. With her free hand, she traces the contours of his jaw, his lips, with gentle fingers. He's mesmerized by her eyes, dark and luminous and filled with her emotions- faith and love and want for him. "I choose to be with you. I've seen inside you.  I know.  I still choose you. Let me be with you."

Wolfgang knows he's lost the moment she tentatively draws his head down to hers and she kisses him as if she is afraid he will turn her away.

 _Mein Herz_. As if he could. He knows he should be the one begging her.

He tries very hard to go slowly, to not return her kiss as if he wants to drown in her, even though it's exactly what he wants to do. Because even though he's kissed Kala during their visits, felt her mouth pressed against his and felt the rush of desire, kissing Kala in the flesh... it is like no experience he has ever had, a rapture so intense that it feels heady, like a drug, and he is almost afraid of giving into it. Almost.

So Wolfgang goes slowly, even as his body sings with eagerness, and he kisses her close-mouthed but can't resist teasing her with gentle teeth and a tongue that traces the seam of her lips until she parts them on a soft groan. She is pliant and fits so easily into his arms. The hand that had rested against the nape of his neck traces a path from his head down his spine, curves to trace around his waist, skimming over the top of his jeans, and it drives him crazy because she stops on a sigh and loses the nerve to go further.

 _Kala_. He gives a frustrated chuckle, burying his face in her hair, holding her to him and suppressing an overwhelming urge to grind against her. The reality of having her here, with him, was testing his considerable self-control.

She gives a dreamy _mmm_  and kisses the curve of his shoulder.

"I would do anything for you, _Schatzi_  ," he promises. "If you want to be with me, if you're sure you want me," he pauses, distracted by hands that run along his back and rub taut muscles, "I'm here. I'll always be here. Always."

"Wolfgang." He has never in his life ever heard his name said the way Kala says it, with a breathless catch that makes his skin grow hot. "I'm not perfect either, I'm human like you, but we're part of each other." She looks up at Wolfgang, and there's the ghost of a smile playing across her mouth. "Now will you kiss me again, my demon? "

He gives a strangled laugh and obliges her. She seems to melt against him, and his hands coast her back, finding her hips and drawing her fully against him. It's madness the way she fires every inch of his being with her touch. He very much wants to bury himself inside of her, to fulfill every fantasy he'd tortured himself with while he stayed away from her.

Some of his thoughts must have bled into her, because Kala pulls away abruptly, her face flaming before she burrows it in his shoulder.

He's breathing hard, as if he'd run a long race, but he kisses her hair, murmuring apologies in Hindi, in German, as he tries to bring himself under control. He's happy she's here, with him. He doesn't need more.

"It's alright, Wolfgang," she says, looking up at him. Her face is still red, but she smiles and manages to look mischievous and embarrassed at the same time. She reaches around him to her carry-on, fiddles with one hand inside an interior compartment, and produces a small box of condoms. In the correct size. Somewhere, in the back of his consciousness, he hears a very smug Lito say, "You're welcome."

Wolfgang takes the box from her and looks at her intently, bringing his forehead down to touch hers. He exhales slowly. "Kala, are you sure? " She nods, and he can feel her conviction that it is the absolute right thing to do. She'd thought through the implications of going to see him, didn't want to presume, but wanted to be prepared. His heart is beating furiously. He huffs a wide smile and kisses her deeply, reverently.

It's her first time. He knows this. The Cluster know this. They have learned to tune each other out during private moments, and they do so now, much to Kala's gratification.

She is shy, but she isn't a shrinking virgin. She'd seen him naked before; re-lived that moment in her bedroom and dreamed that she'd joined him when he'd invited her to bed beside him.

Now that she has decided, she is anxious to touch him. She tugs at his shirt until she can slide her hands underneath, splaying them across his chest, fascinated by the feel of him. She smiles against his mouth when he sucks in his breath at the touch of her hands along his nipples. He draws back and pulls his shirt over his head and deposits it on the floor impatiently.

_Kala. Kala._

She loves the sound of her name on his mouth. She whispers his name back when his lips move down her throat. She takes her own blouse off. He removes the modest cotton bra beneath, lingers to fondle her breasts and kisses the groan of pleasure that escapes her lips. Their lower garments follow: Wolfgang guides Kala's hands to undo the button of his jeans, encourages the agonizingly slow and careful process of drawing down the zipper over his erection, inhales sharply when she reaches to help him remove his briefs. She takes off her own skirt, removing the panties in a single sweep. He guides her back to the bed.

They make love in fits and starts: one moment leisurely exploring each other's bodies, the next moment frantic for the other's touch. It's breathless moans and murmured sighs: She touches him boldly, and when she hesitates, he whispers encouragement in her ear and guides her with his hands. He kisses her everywhere, and there isn't a part of her that he hasn't explored with his mouth before he puts on a condom and eases himself between her legs. She's so very ready, but when his head reaches her barrier, she exhales sharply and tenses a little, anticipating some pain.

Wolfgang stops immediately, breathing hard, a sheen of perspiration covering his body. He kisses her soothingly, and there is a flicker in the back of her head.  She can feel his passion, magnified by her own, and the roaring primal desire to put himself deep inside of her. But he won't hurt her;  he doesn't want to hurt her.  In the back of her consciousness,  he asks for her permission to switch bodies, spare her pain. And Kala wants to laugh at that absurdity and weep because _this_  is what she knows of her demon:  Not a black heart, not a monster, but this selfless man who puts her needs over his own. 

She arches her hips up to him. "Don't take this away from me, Wolfgang," she says, her voice throaty. "I _want_  to feel it." And it's all the encouragement he needs to bury himself inside of her, as he's always wanted, and she groans his name because it's all she's ever wanted, too.

...

He's enthralled by the sight and feel of her lying curled against him, naked, sleeping deeply, exhaustion finally claiming her. Her first time may not have been in a luxurious honeymoon suite in a romantic city surrounded by candles and the fragrance of roses, but he gives a self-satisfied smirk knowing that she won't have any complaints.

 _Fuck._ Neither does he.

 _Beloved_. He holds her close and presses a kiss to her hair. Kala doesn't stir. They've been in his room for a long time, and he told Felix he'd be back to keep him company for dinner. But he won't leave Kala by herself; he'll take her with him. He wants them to meet.

He's in love with her: Those words don't even begin to capture his feelings for her, and his heart constricts a little, thinking that it's not a cliche at all to know that all he could ever want in this world is right here. He feels a little disloyal to think it, but the truth is, if he'd lost Felix, he would have been devastated. But Kala... if he ever loses Kala, he'll be destroyed.

And he's afraid, suddenly, that thinking it will ensure he'll lose her, so he holds her tighter and tries to only think of the now, and he wishes he weren't quite so superstitious, because the fear only deepens.

She shifts a little and sighs his name. And he pushes aside the irrational fear because in reality, he's never been so happy in his entire life.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one REALLY got away from me, but I couldn't bring myself to shorten it. Thanks for reading!


	3. Kama

They barely make it back to the hospital in time for Wolfgang to sit with Felix at dinner.

Kala is nervous but excited as she rushes through the hospital, hand tucked into Wolfgang's, fighting the urge to giggle. She can feel his excitement, too, and she bites her lip when they stop just short of the closed door.

Wolfgang pulls her to him and kisses her roughly, pinning her arms to her sides, but she melts under his kiss anyway and he gives a soft moan when he ends the embrace. He gives her one last, chaste peck and doesn't say a word before he enters Felix's room, alone.

Felix is sitting up with a tray of covered hospital food on his lap. The TV is on and there's some crime drama playing.

"Wolfie!" The voice is not so loud, but it is stronger than it's been before. Felix is no longer tied up to so many tubes and machines anymore, so he looks pretty good for someone who was ready to slough off the mortal coil just a few days ago. There's only one drip and a heart monitor now. Felix exposes the food under the cover like a magician with his cape. "This food is shit," he says, poking at a bowl of vegetable soup and crackers. "When the fuck do I get to leave? I'll die of starvation here."

"Tomorrow maybe," responds Wolfgang, smiling at Felix's crankiness. "Tests look good. Plus the doctor says they're tired of your sorry ass."

"I can't eat this shit anymore. " Felix grabs the packet of crackers, opens it before covering the food again. "I want some fucking steak," he mumbles, popping a cracker into his mouth.

Wolfgang shuffles from one foot to another and edges a little toward the door.

"Hey." He pauses, discarding the speech he was going to give and instead gives a quick exhale. He can't help a grin from spreading across his face.

"Hey?" prompts Felix, looking at Wolfgang like he's lost his mind.

"I've brought someone I'd like you to meet."

Wolfgang turns to the door and lets Kala in.

 ...

The walk back from the hospital is leisurely, arms around each other, silent. Content. Wolfgang is afraid to think "happy".

Felix knew about Kala. Not quite everything about Kala - explaining the Cluster is for another day - but it turns out that he'd been awake a lot of the times that Wolfgang had stayed with him. He'd listened to confessions, to apologies, to everything Wolfgang talked about. And Wolfgang had talked a lot about her.

If Felix resented her at all, he didn't show it: He seemed genuinely happy to meet her, told Wolfgang she was fucking hot, called Wolfgang a lucky shithead and then had the grace to be embarrassed when he found she understood German. She held his hand, gave him a hug. Felix stuttered and looked gobsmacked. Wolfgang only smiled. They stayed with Felix for an hour or so, until the nurse came to take his vitals and Felix kicked them out.

So the walk back from the hospital was much less frantic than the journey there.

When they arrive at the motel, Kala insists on checking in. She wants to see if her room is any better than Wolfgang's, so she takes the key and they go up the elevator to the fourth floor. Her room is not quite at the end of the hallway, but she's not surprised that there's not much difference, other than the floor; it's also a little brighter. Since her things are still in Wolfgang's room, she goes back with him. They take the stairway to go down one floor. Wolfgang stops them midway to make out.

By the time they reach his room, their bodies are humming with anticipation, and they fall into each other as soon as the door closes behind them. They can't get enough of each other, fascinated by taste and smell and touch when before they'd only had dreams to go by. Clothes rapidly end up discarded on the floor. There's a moment when Kala doesn't think they'll actually make it to the bed. But Wolfgang lifts her, twines her long legs around him, carries her, and he's remembering one fantasy or another and ticks it off his list. It's hours before they realize they're hungry because they haven't had dinner.

...

He wakes up because he reaches for her and she's not there. It's morning, and there's a moment of panic before he realizes she's quietly praying to a small statue of Ganesha she'd brought and placed on the desk. She's wearing the t-shirt he'd worn last night. She looks ethereal. He can't take his eyes off of her. When she finishes, she looks over at him, smiles shyly, and crawls back beside him.

"Do you feel guilty? " he asks her, his hand scooting under the shirt to touch bare skin. He props himself up on his side, head resting on his left hand, his right coming to rest on the curve of her hip.

She lays along her side, mirroring him, her right hand buried in her wild hair, her left resting on his naked hip. Kala gives him an enigmatic smile. "Do you know what _kama_  is?" she asks. He shakes his head, and she explains that it is love, pleasure, desire; one of the four goals of human life, essential to one's being. She strives for _dharma_ , moral conscience, _artha_ , material security, and _moksha_ , self-realization, salvation. "But until you," she says, brown eyes luminous, vulnerable, "I couldn't understand _kama_. I was afraid I wasn't ever meant to know it."

He's humbled into silence, kisses her softly, finally murmurs _Ich liebe dich_  - _I love you_  - over and over.

She is radiant.  She smiles, calls him " _mera_ _pyaara_ "- _beloved_  - and murmurs that she loves him too. He flips her onto her back and worships her the only way he knows.

They won't think about how she will be returning to Mumbai in two days. They won't think about anything else besides trying to make this last.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I explained the tenets of purusharthas correctly; kindly correct me if I didn't! Apologies again for any errors in German and Hindi.


	4. Goodbye

Of the three nights that she'd reserved,  Kala doesn't stay once in her motel room.  Felix is discharged from the hospital the morning of her second day,  and she is busy helping Wolfgang move Felix into the apartment that Wolfgang leased earlier in the week for them. It's a spartan flat,  just outside of the city,  but it has two equal sized bedrooms and a single full bath.  

 

Felix is slow and precise when he moves.  He leans heavily against Wolfgang, cracks some jokes to hide his embarrassment. But it's evident that Wolfgang doesn't mind at all; he is patient and careful.  Kala's heart swells. 

 

Kala does her best to help settle Felix in the apartment,  to put him at ease, and since she is able to help him understand his medicines, he permits her to mother him over pain relievers and antibiotics.  She goes to a market just down the street and purchases food she knows Felix will like.   For lunch,  she cooks a simple soup,  some chicken, but nothing too spicy to upset Felix's stomach. Wolfgang goes back to the motel to check out, takes a message, and grabs whatever he's left there.  He picks up Kala's things, but she'll check out when her time is up:  She'd left the number for the motel with her parents and doesn't want to worry them or explain why she's no longer there. 

 

They spend the rest of the day in the apartment with Felix,  although he tires easily and falls asleep on the couch, watching an old German soap. Wolfgang calls him _Oma_ , _Grandmother_ , but Felix doesn't respond.   Wolfgang and Kala sit next to him, exchange glances and leave quietly, hands clasped, escaping to Wolfgang's bedroom.

 

There is a palpable undercurrent of need whenever they're together as they count the hours they have left.  It's ridiculous when they know they won't ever really be separated because of their connection,  but as Riley had said,  things are different when it's for real, and they can't help grasping at every fragile moment,  supremely aware that it's finite.   

 

So Kala's remaining days run in odd counterpoint, where she and Wolfgang care for Felix, see to his needs and spend time with him.  And when they're left alone,  they draw together greedily,  insatiable for the feel of each other's physical presence.  The sex grows desperate, more intense,  if that is at all possible:  Kala can't think of the words to describe it,  but Wolfgang knows that sometimes they make love,  and sometimes they simply fuck. 

 

Kala goes back to the motel the morning of her last day to check out.  Wolfgang sits in the car and waits patiently for her.  One day, he thinks, he'll follow her to India,  to Mumbai. When Felix is better,  when his shit is a little more together, he'll follow her to India.   

 

But not today.  He can't today.   

 

Kala returns to the car and Wolfgang takes her to Tegel to catch her flight.   When she leaves, Kala tries not to weep,  because it truly means nothing when he can stay with her on her long flight while still being present in an apartment outside of Berlin.  But Kala gets teary-eyed anyway, although she's openly embarrassed to be doing so.   She smiles and they agree there's no need for Wolfgang to visit her on the flight; she wants this to be as normal as possible. Wolfgang isn't quite sure he understands what she means by that,  but he nods his head in acquiescence.

 

Kala sees the taut expression on Wolfgang's face and strokes his cheek with a gentleness that makes his breath hitch.   She kisses him sweetly,  wraps her arms around him for a soft hug that he returns with a force that drags her off her feet and causes her to laugh. 

 

They murmur words of love to each other in Hindi and German.  Kala tells herself there's no reason to feel so bereft when she finally gets in line for security and leaves Wolfgang behind. 

 

Wolfgang returns to the car and gives himself a moment to collect his scattered thoughts. Already it feels strange to be alone,  empty. But he puts up his mental blocks so he doesn't inadvertently call Kala back to him. Especially not now. 

 

He shakes his head and reaches into the pocket of his jacket,  finding a slip of paper with the message he'd picked up from the motel two days ago.  He takes his burner phone and dials the number on the paper.  He speaks to the man on the other end of the phone in Russian and makes an appointment before he leaves the airport and heads back to his apartment. 

 


	5. Family

"Wolfie, you've got it fucking bad."

Wolfgang looks over at Felix and gives a faint smile.  There is no point arguing when it is only the truth,  so he doesn't answer,  just takes another drink of his beer. 

"You didn't even hit on that girl at the shop," Felix continues,  shaking his head, "and she was so _hot_... and so _interested_! _And she had a cute friend_! What a fucking waste." 

Wolfgang chuckles at Felix's mournful tone. They had gone out for the first time since Felix was discharged from the hospital a week ago. They walked around; Felix bought new shoes, insisted that Wolfgang get another new pair.  It was _deja vu_. Another customer -a cute tourist from Belgrade- struck up a conversation with them at the shoe store;  her friend had stood back,  rolling her eyes. 

"So...what does this mean?"  Felix looks at his best friend as if he's really trying to understand. "You're not going out anymore?No more clubs? No more _fun_?"

Wolfgang huffs his objection.  "Nah," he says. "If you were so interested, why didn't you ask her out yourself?"

"She was interested in _you_ ," Felix responds without the least bitterness. "I'm just saying ...So...Kala... it's serious, eh? You're going to try to make this long-distance thing work?" There is a mixture of incredulity and doubt in his voice. 

Kala flew back a week ago.  Wolfgang visits her at night - his blood quickens just thinking of visiting - but he is a little hollow without her, now that he can feel the difference between holding her in person,  and not. Not, he thinks, that there aren't advantages to visiting:  The feel of her without a condom might be an echo of the real thing, but it's still fucking amazing. 

"Isn't it weird that you wanted to go to India before you met her?"  Felix gives him a wide-eyed stare.  They are sitting in the living room of their apartment.  

"Yes,"agrees Wolfgang. 

It's difficult to look at things without seeing her here. It doesn't help that they fucked in every room of the flat, except for Felix's bedroom. Wolfgang's eyes slide to the sofa Felix sits on and his lips involuntarily quirk.  Felix isn't an idiot;  Wolfgang is pretty sure he knows. 

"I mean, " went on Felix, starting to wax poetic, "you just out of the blue said you needed a change of scenery,  and of all the places,  you said you wanted to go to India.  That is unbelievable.  That is fucking unbelievable:   You meet this girl while you're in hiding,  and it turns out that she's from _fucking India_! It's fucking fate, Wolfie." 

Wolfgang looks keenly at Felix. He smiles a little because he wants to tell Felix the truth, he wants to tell Felix about the Cluster, he wants to tell Felix that Kala calls their connection a miracle.  But he doesn't really have the time.  

He needs to go. 

"One day soon," he says,  smiling as he finishes his beer, "I'll tell you something about fate. But not today."

Felix looks at him suspiciously as he gets up and heads into his bedroom and closes the door behind him.  

Wolfgang walks to his closet and sighs.  

He grabs an older model Glock 17 from a box on a corner shelf, checks the safety, and shoves it in the back of his jeans; they'll expect him to carry something, and he doesn't care if it's taken.  After another moment's consideration,  he grabs a smaller pistol - one of his father's - and his leather jacket.  After the spectacular events in his uncle's house, they'll also expect more than one gun. 

 _Scheisse_. 

He puts on a watch and checks the message on the smartphone given to him three days ago. It names a nice hotel by the airport and gives a suite number and a time. 

"Where are you going?"  Felix asks when Wolfgang finally emerges from his room.

Wolfgang shrugs on his jacket; Felix blanches at the pistol going into the inside pocket. 

"Wolfgang, what are you doing?" 

"I'm just going to a meeting," Wolfgang responds. He smiles a little at Felix. "Don't worry,  I'm not going to kill anyone. Kala wouldn't like it."

He leaves before Felix can be assured that he won't get himself killed.

Because Kala wouldn't like that either.  

...

Wolfgang arrives at the hotel on time.  He heads to the elevators and up to the top floor. At the designated suite, he knocks and stands back.  He hears people talking behind the door before someone merely invites him to come in. 

He doesn't give himself time to worry but just opens the door.  There are,  of course,  several large men that flank him immediately;  he's divested of the weapons in record time. 

"Now why would you bring those?"  The man that approaches speaks to him in Russian. He's not much older than Wolfgang, maybe a little taller. He's dressed casually,  in jeans and a nice shirt, not flashy like Sergei or Steiner. There are no telltale tattoos, either, and his hair is blond and close cut.   There's a resemblance. If what he told Wolfgang several days earlier is true,  the man is his cousin on his mother's side. His name is Viktor.

Wolfgang shrugs.  "Because you expect them." His Russian is a little rusty; Sergei and Steiner liked to pretend they were only German, tattoos notwithstanding. 

His cousin smiles at him. "Well you may have them later," he says affably, motioning for Wolfgang to sit on the other side of a desk where a laptop already rests, open, and some papers are strewn. "Although why you'd want such relics is beyond me."

Viktor settles in behind the desk and moves the laptop to better see Wolfgang, who sits across from him. "You've cost us some money to make sure people think you're dead," he begins, "but it's worth it to us, for the favor you've done."

Wolfgang says nothing.  Just watches. He is trying to suppress the tension he suddenly feels.  He doesn't want anyone in the Cluster to suspect that anything is amiss. _Fuck_.

"While Sergei was alive, we weren't able to reach over his territory, but the people who hold it now are much more accommodating."

"What does this have to do with me?" Wolfgang was never patient with narrative bullshit.

Viktor smiles faintly.  "Nothing, really, " he admits,  sitting back.  "I take it that you want to just disappear with the money from the diamonds.  Yes, we heard about that. " Viktor looks amused. "You're welcome to keep that, and maybe earn a little more if you can do one last thing for us."

Wolfgang sits up, wary. Not that he expected anything otherwise,  but this is not going well. 

"The diamonds were taken out of an S&D." Viktor looks impressed. "There is something in an S&D in Holland that we need.  Some papers. But we need to be discreet;  no drilling,  no explosions, because we need those papers; we may replace them with something else."

 _Holland_?  Wolfgang shakes his head.  "Why would I do anything for you?  I'm not interested in the family business."

"Because we'll pay you well to do this,  and then you can comfortably disappear."  Viktor leans across the desk,  and his manner is brusque and business like.  "The only man who's ever successfully opened an S&D is believed dead; they'll think it's an inside job. We _want_  you to disappear.  My mother is interested in seeing you. She's in Zagreb. You can visit her when it's over. Bring Herr Berner."

Wolfgang is still.  He didn't know his aunt is alive.  His father had cut off communications after his mother's death. He has vague, fond memories of her. 

But he wants nothing more to do with this kind of life. He shakes his head slowly.

Viktor tilts his head speculatively, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth. 

"Or maybe you can go to Mumbai. I understand there are beautiful things to see there."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going off canon:-) Hope you enjoy.


	6. Demons

Kala is in the lab, alone, when she feels it.  

It's after hours, and she's working on a promising synthetic derivative from a psycho-med, a blocker for Will.  She is inputting information into her tablet, mulling over the difference between data. Since returning to work, the ideas for the blocker have been coming quickly,  and she squeezes time in the early hours,  during lunch, and after hours, to create and test the derivative. During lulls, she struggles not to daydream;  not to lose herself in images of Berlin or to think so longingly of Wolfgang that she brings him here. But tonight she is engrossed in analyses. 

The tablet she is holding clatters to the floor. 

She knows what it is as soon as the sensation hits her, and she is suddenly, mind-numbingly afraid. _No, no, no_ , she thinks. 

Her heart races; blood pounds behind her ears. She fights it, but she can't breathe.  _She can't  breathe._

 _Wolfgang_. 

She's in a hotel room with a spectacular view of an airport from the windows.  It's Tegel. She was just here a week ago, in Berlin. 

There are perhaps five or six men in this room, at least three that look like armed body guards.  It's preternaturally quiet, attention focused on the two men sitting across from each other,  separated by a desk. One of them is Wolfgang.

Kala's first reaction is confusion. There's no chaos; no guns drawn or dead bodies around. Wolfgang looks cool and unflappable.  But she feels the heavy pressure of his anxiety squeezing her chest,  suffocating her; it's a panic attack.  Why is he panicking?

She feels a hand to her elbow,  and she starts at the unexpected contact before she realizes who it is and collapses with relief into Wolfgang's arms. He holds her, and some of the pressure eases.

" _Es tut mir Leid_.   _Es tut mir Leid_."   _I'm sorry. I'm sorry_. 

There is a sense of grief in the way he says it, and it frightens her.  She puts her hands up to cup his face and kisses him. " _Stop it,_ " she says over his apologies.  "Wolfgang, what's wrong?"

She turns her head and sees for the first time that it is Lito who sits in that chair, in Wolfgang's body.  It is Lito whom the man behind the desk talks to.  She has so many questions,  but she listens closely to what is being said, and at first, she can't put her finger on what exactly is different. But then she realizes: It isn't German; it's Russian.

...

Lito feels Wolfgang's panic and abruptly excuses himself from the interview he is giving; asks for a break from the taping.  The next moment, he is in a hotel suite, and it doesn't take him long to assess the situation. 

Lito has been in this movie. " _El Mercenario_ ". He's an assassin, and he's told that when he finishes the job, he can walk away; retire forever. Go visit his family, his friends. The woman he left behind. 

" _Ili vy mozhete poekhat' v Mumbai._   _Ya ponimayu, chto krasivye veshchi est', chtoby uvidet' tam._ "   _Or maybe you can go to Mumbai. I understand there are beautiful things to see there._

The emotion that swallows Lito here, in this hotel room, is raw, visceral. Wolfgang has had a gun to his head many times, but it is the threat to Kala that undoes him, sends him into a blind fear that stops him from thinking coolly.

So Lito steps in, and now he is the German - _Russian?_ \- El Mercenario. 

"Look," Lito says, leaning back against his seat. "I don't appreciate threats."  Lito can feel Kala's presence behind him. It calms Wolfgang. _Good_.

The man across from him, _Viktor_ , he thinks, shakes his head, smiling ruefully. 

"I'm not threatening you,  Wolfgang," he says. "I'm merely telling you that you will be comfortably set - between the diamonds and the money we'll pay you for the S&D job - to do as you please. At least for a while." He shrugs. "Why stay in Berlin? There's nothing here to keep you, and every reason to leave. We know you have a temporary flat until Bernner is well.  You've closed up that shop you own together.  You can go anywhere. If not to Zagreb, why not to India?  Of course we know you were already with Miss Dandekar last week. But who would blame you for going to see her again? She's very beautiful."  Viktor smirks, and that family resemblance is suddenly apparent. 

Kala grips Wolfgang's hand. 

"You can have something to offer a woman like that, if you want.  Or not, if she's just your current fuck." The term is jarring, offensive, and Lito can feel the anger that uncoils the panic in Wolfgang's gut. He needs to be calm.

"What guarantee do you give me that if I do this single job you won't drag me back for more?" he demands. 

"I'd tell you it's because we're family,  but unfortunately,  you don't hold much by that, do you?" 

Lito permits himself a smirk,  just like Wolfgang's. Just like Viktor's.

"As I said," Viktor continues, "it's to our advantage for people to think you're dead...without you really being dead. I'd be lying to you if I said we'd never need you again.  Never say never, right?  But we'll try our best to leave you be. You'll find we're not like Sergei."

Lito can feel Wolfgang's deep distrust,  his disdain for the Bogdanows.  He expects more of the same from this cousin,  who settles back in the chair.

"Who's safe is it?" Lito asks.  Wolfgang only wants to leave, but it's better to know what is being asked of him. 

Viktor's face becomes shuttered. "A competitor's," he says. After a pause, he adds, "As I told you,  what we do is much different from what your uncle did.  But in some matters,  the businesses intersect. Sergei gave some information to people that he shouldn't have. They don't know what they have yet.  We need it back before they find out. "  Viktor leans forward, once again business-like.  "If you need men to go with you, we'll give them to you. But I expect you won't need them. "

 _I have no choice_. He can hear Wolfgang behind him. They know her name, where she is from:  There is no choice if there is a threat to Kala. But it's best to leave the illusion, at least, of having the freedom to consider one's options. 

Lito shifts his chair back, moves to stand. "I'll think about it." 

"One hundred thousand euros." Viktor gets up and signals one of the guards. "That's a lot of money for one job. In and out. You have a week. After that, our window of opportunity will be closed."

Lito gives a theatrical pause, nods, and rises, staring down the guard directly behind him. Another guard hands him his guns -Wolfgang's Glock and an ordinary handgun - shows him the ammunition removed from their chambers in another hand, and deposits them in Lito's palm.

"You know how to reach me," adds Viktor.

Lito leaves the room without a backward glance and doesn't turn to Wolfgang and Kala until he is at the elevator, alone. 

He sees the worry etched on Kala's face,  the strain on Wolfgang's, and the arm Wolfgang wraps protectively around Kala. 

"Thank you," says Wolfgang.

Lito merely shrugs, returns Wolfgang's body. "Good luck," he says, looking at them. He wants to help them; he tries to think of something encouraging to say.  But " _El Mercenario_ " did not end well.  "Be careful. God speed," he says instead. 

...

Kala sits next to Wolfgang as he drives back to the apartment he shares with Felix. He tells her everything:  The contact made by his cousin right before she arrived in Berlin; the appointment he made, the day she left, out of sheer curiosity when he'd learned Viktor had been responsible for keeping the authorities away; the smartphone Viktor gave to him as a means of direct contact. Wolfgang received the message to meet on that phone just yesterday.  The urgency was impressed upon him. 

She learns the rest of it: He's intrigued meeting his cousin, interested in meeting his maternal aunt, but he wants to stay "clean" for himself,  for Kala. Viktor told him that Wolfgang's mother's family are also _Bratva_  - Russian mob -  and implies government ties.  

Wolfgang wants even less to do with that than with the Bogdanow's tainted empire.  

But these men now know about Kala; know she lives in Mumbai, but spent several days here in Berlin, with him. It brings home the sobering realization that she is in more danger being involved with him than she is as part of the Cluster.

Kala shakes her head. "Stop it," she repeats quickly,  angrily.  " _I_ brought myself to their attention, not _you_. And I don't regret coming here." She reaches to touch his cheek, his face rough against her touch.  "I chose you. I would do this all again in another lifetime, my Demon."  She wills him to remember their time together, to remember _kama_  and recall they were happy; she wills him to have faith there will be more such times. 

Wolfgang takes her hand and kisses it. His jaw clenches.  "You know I have to do this. And it may not be the end." It's a statement. She can feel his fear for her, his anxiety. 

"Yes," she answers. "I know.  Because some things..." She sighs deeply.  Wolfgang had ghosts before the Cluster; demons before Whispers.  They didn't end that day in his uncle's home.   This moment somehow feels as inevitable as that one. She touches his cheek. "Come to me tonight, _mera_ _pyaara_ ," she whispers.  He nods and kisses her hand again. 

She is back in the lab, in Mumbai.  It takes her a moment to gather her composure.  

Kala reaches the table for her notes and bends to the ground for the computer tablet. The tablet's protective case did its job;  it powers up without a problem.   She puts the tablet and her notes in her tote and goes home. 

...

She can't sleep. 

Kala lies on her side, awake, and until he appears,  Kala is afraid that Wolfgang will not come to her. He finally does so at two in the morning. It is not even ten at night where he lives with Felix, but she wishes he had come sooner.

Like every night since she returned from Germany,  she feels him fit his naked body against her, but tonight, she is naked, too, and he gives a soft hiss of surprise when he joins her under her sheets. His hand coasts the curve of her hip and dips lower, between her legs. 

She turns to him, fully awake.  He is looking at her with rapt desire, but the haunted look, the self-loathing, that she had thought to banish is also back in his eyes. She can feel it, and she hates it. 

She _hates_  it.

And she is defiant. 

Kala pushes him back against the bed - _his_  bed, in _his_ room, in the apartment just outside of Berlin  - and kisses him fiercely. She links her fingers tightly with his, puts his arms above his head and straddles him.  She can feel his sharp surprise, his excitement, when she joins them without preamble. They are both ready for each other,  but her rough urgency,  the way she moves, the feral violence of her kisses, is driving him crazy, pushing out all thought but those of her. He responds in kind.

Kala thinks of Shiva, the Destroyer, as she fights to purge Wolfgang of his demons in the only way she knows.  She closes her mind to everything but  the sensation of pleasure.  

It is not like Berlin, but by the gods it feels close enough. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, KinoGlowWorm, for your input and kitchen Russian:-) And thanks to Foulbearhideout.tumblr.com for setting me straight and still helping with my German. <3 <3 <3


	7. Nomi talks

Wolfgang takes one last drag of his cigarette, gives a slow exhale, and crushes the butt underfoot. He leans back against his chair, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and looks out at some distant point beyond this outdoor cafe. It's early morning, the weather is cool, and he is at that same cafe, that same spot, where Kala had once stood, soaked, as he was, by cool Berlin rain, before coming to sit tentatively beside him. His heart stutters a little thinking about it. How long ago that seems.

He owes Viktor an answer. He's just been dragging his feet over giving it.

"Wolfie." Felix comes out of the cafe with a bag of food and a cup of black coffee. "You'd better eat. I don't have the strength to babysit you yet."

Wolfgang gives a faint smile and accepts the coffee and bag from Felix's extended hand; Felix's other hand grips the handle of a cane with a growling wolf's head. Since his movements are labored and endurance limited, Felix purchased the cane from some website as an inside joke and as an affectation, although it actually helps him get around. He claims that women seem to like it.

"You gonna call him soon?" Felix sits in the chair beside Wolfgang, watching him take out a Berliner filled with blackberry jam and take a bite. The day Wolfgang returned from his encounter with Viktor, unscathed, and explained what had happened, Felix swore they would leave Germany, because no one but _scheisskopfs_  would tempt fate like the pair of them and they needed to get out. Screw the flat. They are only in Berlin today because Felix has his last appointment with his doctors. After that, he's on his own; they're free to leave.

Then they can go anywhere.

Felix, of course, presumes it will be India, and begins to look forward to some warm weather, although he's not sure he could live there forever. He kids Wolfgang about Kala, asks if she has a cute sister, making Wolfgang blanch a little. Wolfgang doesn't say they'll go to India: He has one more job.

Wolfgang nods his head at Felix. "Yeah," he says quietly, in answer to Felix's question. "I'm gonna call Viktor. Now."

Felix hesitates, makes a move to get up from his seat. "Want me to leave you or something?" He's a little uneasy about the Russians; he's still got an ingrained sense of distrust, a lingering, irrational prejudice. Except for Wolfie, he was never very comfortable around the Bogdanows, although that turned out to be fucking well-founded.

"Your cousin is involved in heavy political shit."

Wolfgang turns his head slightly to Felix's right. Nomi stands there, arms folded, practically trembling with information. "You know a simple internet search popped up dozens of AP articles about his alleged connections to the government as well as the Russian mob." Wolfgang nods his head; he'd already checked that himself.

"Ok." Wolfgang looks back at Felix, startled. He didn't mean to respond to him, but Felix, of course, presumes Wolfgang's nodding at him and not to a woman who is actually in the United States but somehow standing next to Felix. "I'm going in. Just get me when it's over." Felix stands up, leaning a little against his cane, and heads back into the warmth of the cafe.

Wolfgang watches Felix go; Nomi does, too. "Kala says he's your brother by choice," she says. "I can tell he's probably more worried about this than you are."

"Only 'cause he won't be there," says Wolfgang flippantly, taking a sip of his coffee. He doesn't want to discuss Felix with Nomi, whom he really doesn't know, Cluster connection - and orgy - notwithstanding. "Did Kala ask you to come?"

"No." Nomi takes the seat Felix vacated. She's dressed in loose sweats that she wears to bed when the nights are cooler in San Francisco; it's morning in Berlin and definitely colder. Nomi shivers slightly and sits hugging her legs to her chest on the chair.

"But I'm here because I did some not-so-simple searches and think you need to know what you're walking into."

Wolfgang looks at her, tilting his head to listen, vaguely curious.

"It took a few days, but I was able to hack into your cousin's email account. I think it will be a few more days before his tech guys figure that out."

He is inside a flat in San Francisco. It's later in the evening, probably closer to midnight, but Nomi sits in front of a glowing computer screen with a half-finished mug of chai parked beside it; Wolfgang can taste its sweetness over his own black coffee. The screen she looks at is full of Cyrillic letters and should make no sense to her, but she points to a line in a recent email thread and it is Viktor's response.

Они должны быть у нас до конца месяца. Я уверен, то это может сделать c осторожностью .

_We should have it before the end of the month. I'm confident this can be done with discretion._

"Your name is never mentioned in any of the conversations, so I don't think he was lying about wanting to keep people in the dark, that you're alive." Nomi scrolls up and points to a couple of other threads. "But he's answering to someone with the government, I'm pretty sure of it: These email addresses are like your burner phones; they aren't traceable because they lead to fake users, but what I could trace look like they back into government addresses. But there's no way to really tell."

"How do you know they aren't other _Bratva_?"

Nomi gives a little laugh. "Because those guys don't care," she says. "Look: Viktor is using his name here, all over the place." She scrolls further down until she comes across another name, _Anatoly_. "Here's one of the top _vor_  in St. Petersburg he does business with. Regularly. And here's another guy in Riga, in Latvia, _Aleks_. Do you know Viktor met him at university in Oxford?" Nomi shakes her head in disbelief. "Aleks is almost exclusively weapons; Anatoly more like drugs. These guys seem pretty well educated and well connected and don't give a fuck who know they're also _Bratva._  They're all using 'mail.ru', like regular people. But I couldn't find anything that says exactly what's in the S&D in Holland - and why 'Holland'? Does he really mean that area specifically, or is that just what he still calls The Netherlands?" Nomi shakes off the distraction. "But there are a few references to a list in these emails between Viktor and Aleks, and there's some businessman based in Paris... Everything is pretty cryptic. But whatever these papers are, it's worth a lot of money to them. I'm pretty sure it's bigger than anything the Bogdanows have ever done, and you're doing it at a bargain rate."

Wolfgang listens to Nomi's excited chatter but only pays half attention. He looks back up at the sky. They are back outside, in the daylight, in Berlin. "I don't give a shit about the money," he says, taking the smartphone from the inside pocket of his jacket. He turns it over in his hand a few times. "I just want to be done with this."

"And then what? Disappear from Kala, from us, again?"

Nomi can feel a grim weight settling in her chest, an underlying anger mixed with fatalism roiling in Wolfgang. _Fuck_. She doesn't know what to say. She can feel his guilt, his utter conviction that he brings nothing but danger to the two people he loves most in the world. With Felix, there is a sense of inevitability; they'd lived their lives on the edge of the law, and so Felix's shooting, the entanglement with new _Bratva_ , are not wholly unexpected. But Kala is not Felix.

"Wolfgang," she says firmly, "you need to get over yourself."

He turns icy blue eyes to look at her. Nomi is suddenly out of patience; she suspects it's residual Kala emotions, but she's also pretty good at cutting through self-pity.

"Yes, this new thing with your cousin...it isn't good. It's crazy. But Kala knows that. Would she be safer if she isn't associated with you? Yes. But the truth is we are _all_  mixed up with each other, and we are _all_  being hunted and we are _all_  in danger." Nomi takes a breath, makes herself calm down: "Only, Kala is also in love with you. I don't know how many more times she has to keep assuring you that she wants to be with you for you to believe that." Nomi stares back at Wolfgang. "Why do you insist on pulling this martyr shit and making you both miserable? It makes no fucking sense when we're all connected to each other."

They are back in the flat in San Francisco, and Nomi drags a hand through her long hair, pausing at the back of her head to give it a good rub. "You know that when you spent all that time avoiding her, you weren't just killing her, but the rest of us, too? What you're doing is treating her like a stubborn child instead of the grown up, intelligent woman that she is. Accept her choice to be with you, instead of presuming you know what's best for her." He says nothing, his eyes hard. But Nomi can feel that she's unsettled Wolfgang's equilibrium and presses onward: "If you don't think that someone who can literally get inside your head and experience what you've experienced really knows you or understands you, then _I_ don't know what more to tell you...other than you must be the biggest, most self-involved, egotistical son-of-a-bitch I've had the misfortune to know, or you're an idiot. And I don't see you as an idiot." She lets the subtle insult sink in for a moment. "But if you pull that blocking, disappearing shit again, I will hunt you down harder than any _Bratva_  thug."

He glares back defensively at her before a slight huff escapes him. He grudgingly recognizes some truth in Nomi's tirade. He'd never thought of his actions as being anything but protective of Kala. He'd never thought to diminish her intelligence, her ability to choose for herself. He'd only ever wanted to protect her, ensure her happiness.

Nomi sighs and gives a little shrug. "You may think of yourself as a monster, but she knows you, and her happiness is with you," she tells him, recognizing the knot that forms in his throat. "And she's stronger than you think." There's a moment of pensive silence as he processes the words, turning them over in his head as he turns over the phone.

Wolfgang nods slowly. He already knows that Kala is strong: Hadn't she coolly built him a fucking bomb out of nothing while his uncle's men were trying to blast their way in to kill him? Who _does_ that? It is the only memory out of the grimness of that day that can prompt a small smile.

Wolfgang gives a quick exhale. He'd already promised Kala, in Berlin, before he knew about Viktor, that he'd stay as long as she wanted him. Even knowing about Viktor, she's done everything she can to convince him to honor his promise. He has to honor it. He has to honor  _her._

He stops turning the phone and stares at the screen. It is at once humbling and frightening to think in terms of faith and trust in another person.

He makes a movement to hit the buttons that will call Viktor. But Nomi unexpectedly lays a staying hand on his wrist.

"Wait," she says. "Before you do that, we need you to ask him for a favor. "

Wolfgang frowns, surprised and suspicious of the request. "What?"

She smiles suddenly. "Your genius of a girlfriend thinks she's come up with something to help Will." She arches a coy look at him. "Except she doesn't know how to get the drugs out of the country... at least, not legally. Do you think you can have one of Viktor's men get them and meet you?"

"How about _I_ go and get the drugs before I do the job?"

Nomi's lips twitch. "Suit yourself." She releases his wrist and sits back.

Wolfgang presses the buttons that dial Viktor directly. He agrees to the job but tells him that he is going to see Kala first in Mumbai. There is a heavy pause as Viktor calculates time; he speaks to someone briefly, finally chuckles and agrees, amused but magnanimous, now that he has his answer. Wolfgang adds a request as an afterthought: That someone, a nurse, be sent to take care of Felix while he's gone. Another sigh before Viktor agrees.

"It's not as if we don't already have anyone watching him," Viktor says. Wolfgang's jaw ticks. He says nothing.

Viktor tells him to pack for a flight to Mumbai with an overnight stay, then a direct flight to Amsterdam. Wolfgang is to leave on the next available plane that morning. More instructions to follow by phone. He hangs up, and Wolfgang looks at Nomi.

"Good." Nomi nods. "I have a contact that can take the drugs from you in Amsterdam and get them to Riley and Will. Shall I tell our girl that it's taken care of, or do you want to do the honors?"

Wolfgang gives a slow smile and Nomi huffs out an "aahh...ok." She pauses, then says: "The sex is hot, by the way, but please keep in mind that some of us can't be that turned on and horny at wildly inappropriate times of the day."

He grins at that, completely unrepentant, and finishes his Berliner and coffee before he gets up to get Felix.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you KinoGlowWorm for making sure the Russian says what it's supposed to and answering (too many) random questions:-)  
> And thanks to everyone for reading. As always, comments are very much appreciated!


	8. Mumbai

Kala paces anxiously along the exit of Terminal 2 at the new Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport. It is 7:30 am, and Wolfgang's flight arrived twenty minutes ago, but there is still no sign of Wolfgang. She could connect with him now and ask how close he is, but Kala doesn't like to use their connection that way, so she chooses to wait and feels sick with nervous anticipation. She stops pacing and clutches her stomach trying to quell the sensation.

" _Schatzi,_  you look horrible."

Kala spins around, heart in her throat, and glares up at Wolfgang standing directly behind her.

"Not as horrible as you," she manages to say, before he hooks a finger around a belt loop and draws her against him for a proper, welcoming kiss. It has been nearly two weeks since they were last together in real life, and the sheer intensity of the connection still surprises, but it no longer disconcerts or frightens them.

She is flushed and weak-kneed when they finally break apart, and he gives her a knowing smirk as his hands rest lightly on her hips, thumbs tucked inside the waistband of her jeans.

"Wolfgang," she murmurs self-consciously, noticing stares and blushing at the look he is giving her, more so because she can feel what he's thinking.

His brows shoot up innocently. "What, _Mein Herz_?" he asks, but he smiles gently, draws back to drop the overly-familiar hold he has and instead takes her hand. He can feel her discomfort: For all its cosmopolitan trappings, Mumbai is not Berlin. He tucks her hand to his side as they leave the terminal. He carries a gray duffle bag and pulls a wheeled suitcase with his other hand. "Now that I think my handler has caught up with me, we should go."

"What?" Kala looks around quickly but doesn't notice anyone in particular.

"Viktor's man has been with me since the layover in Frankfurt."

Kala's brows furrow but she says nothing. They walk casually out the doors and catch a cab, taking their time as Wolfgang's spartan luggage is placed in the trunk.

He gives the name of his hotel to the driver as they get inside the back seat. Kala rests her head on Wolfgang's shoulder; his arm goes around her waist. They speak to each other in German: She tells him she has two vials and a bottle of pills to deliver for Will. One vial contains the psychotropic medicine that she created, the other, marked with a positive sign, is a stronger version. The only way to tell if they work is to test them on Will. The pills are anticonvulsants, in the event that the meds cause a seizure. There is a possibility that may occur, and Kala worries that they cannot bring Will to a hospital, but she will be there, with Riley, to show her how to administer the drugs and watch for adverse reaction. The vials are in her purse, along with two large syringes and needles, as Wolfgang had requested. Kala pauses, looks up at him in concern. She knows he is to meet a contact of Nomi's in Amsterdam, at the airport. After that...

Wolfgang looks down at her and gives a small shrug. He tells her no instructions have arrived yet from Viktor, other than to take an 11:40 am flight to Amsterdam tomorrow.

Kala's head rests back on his shoulder. She doesn't wholly trust Viktor. Nomi has told her more than enough to concern her, and the most disturbing part in Kala's mind is that Wolfgang isn't even sure what he's retrieving and from whom. "What if you're committing espionage?" she asks.

Wolfgang chuckles a little. "I doubt the government would trust the _Bratva_  to obtain state secrets."

She thinks about that, but isn't convinced.

The taxi pulls up to the hotel and Kala gapes a little when they step into the lobby. It is all marble and limestone and tinted tempered glass that lets in the light of the sun but staves off the Indian heat. She stands next to Wolfgang as he checks in and can't help but compare the splendor of this setting to the questionable accommodations in Berlin. She will always have a soft spot for the questionable accommodations.

She starts a little when the clerk addresses her, welcomes her to the hotel as "Mrs. Berner".

"Am I married to Felix?" she asks with a laugh as she and Wolfgang get in the glass elevator that overlooks the spectacular lobby and takes them directly to the top floor.

"No, just to me, _Wolfgang_  Berner," he replies with a smirk, and she smiles. She asks about Felix, if he has someone helping him while Wolfgang is away, and laughs when Wolfgang tells her that _Oma_  has a hot nurse, courtesy of Viktor. Wolfgang doesn't tell her that he sees Viktor's man standing casually in the lobby, on the phone.

He gives Kala the key card when the elevator stops. They walk down several corridors before arriving at a door at the end of a hallway. Kala looks at Wolfgang, sensing an anxiousness that hadn't been there before. He looks strained but nods at her reassuringly when she hesitates.

She waves the card in front of the sensor and opens the door. The first thing she notices is a jaw-dropping view of the ocean from a floor-to-ceiling window that makes up the wall at the other end of the room. The room itself is spacious, with a mahogany desk holding a brilliant bouquet of red roses and two leather chairs in one corner, and an oversized wingback with a small metal end table on the other. The bed is large and plush and covered in rose petals, and two towels shaped like intertwining swans are at the foot of the bed beside two white bathrobes. She arches an eyebrow at Wolfgang as she lays her purse next to a large fruit basket, adorned with a red bow, on the middle of the bed. Wolfgang deposits his suitcase and duffle by the door.

Kala turns the corner and sees that the bathroom is separated by a glass wall, and a large oval bathtub sits angled so one can still appreciate the view -both ways, apparently, she thinks. The bathtub is already filled midway with water- and more rose petals.

"Wolfgang," she asks, turning around to face him, "what is all of this?"

He grimmaces, shifts uncomfortably as she closes the distance between them and finally says: "Kala … _this_  is what you should have had the first time, instead of that _Sheisseloch_  in Berlin. It should have been in a honeymoon suite. It should have been beautiful. I want to make it up to you."

She looks up at him and it's impossible to think of the kind of man he is to others: the kind _Bratva_  find to do a job; the kind who commits patricide and murders in the name of revenge. Her mind shies away at the things he's done to survive and to dull the reality, to find pleasure, in his world. He is dark and jagged. But for her, he is so soft: She can only ever see _this_ man, who acts out of love.

She draws his head down to hers, basking in the familiar expression that spreads and radiates across his face and never fails to leave her breathless.

"That _Scheissloch_  was heaven for a day," she whispers, her mouth so close that her breath ghosts over his own.

"What's greater than heaven?" he asks, but doesn't wait for her answer before he kisses her.

…

Wolfgang is in the bathroom in front of the vanity wearing only his briefs when Kala wakes up. She watches his reflection in the mirror as he empties a sealed, travel-size bottle of mouthwash through a pinprick made at the bottom. The contents stream into the sink with a few squeezes of the plastic container. He sets it aside and opens a package containing a syringe, puts in a needle, and reaches for one of the vials on the vanity. 

"Wait!" Kala sits up, fully awake. "There's alcohol in the mouthwash-"

He turns his head to her and gives a slight smile. "I know. It's just water, _Schatz_. I cleaned these before I left Berlin." He drags as much fluid from the vial as the syringe can hold, flips the bottle upside down, and injects the med carefully into the emptied mouthwash bottle. He repeats the process several times until the vial is empty, seals the hole with some kind of glue or putty before turning the bottle right side up. It isn't completely full to its 8 mL capacity, but close enough to look like a sealed bottle of clear mouthwash.

Kala puts on a robe and joins Wolfgang at the vanity. He's finished transferring both meds, using the different syringes for each, and holds up the bottles, which are two different brands of mouthwash. "This was in the vial marked positive," he explains, holding the bottle he just filled. Kala nods.

"And the pills?" she asks, turning over the sealed bottles.

Wolfgang holds up a prescription bottle for Wolfgang Brenner. "Already in here. One of Felix's pain meds. Not that anyone will look that closely. Everyone is more worried about bombs."

The smartphone vibrates on the counter and Wolfgang frowns, reaches for it. There's finally a text message from Viktor, providing a link to a page on the Internet. The link opens to a Dutch public record document: a home outside of Amsterdam that applied for a _bouwvergunning_  - a building permit - last fall and includes a nice schematic to the new upstairs level. Viktor's text says: "bedroom three, list marked 'by product'."

Kala's breath hitches. "What does that mean? Who's house is it?"

"Don't use your phone to look; I'm on it."

Nomi stands between them as she plugs in the address on the permit into her cell phone.

"I know I'm interrupting," she says, although she gives Wolfgang an accusatory glare and he notices she's in her sweats again; it's just past midnight in San Francisco, "but I want to let you know that my friend, Oscar, will meet you by the baggage claim. I just got his text confirming. I'll be there to point him out. I told him to look for the angry German guy coming from Mumbai. You shouldn't be hard to spot. We need to work out how to give him the meds; there's cameras everywhere these days, so I may need to help with that."

Wolfgang shrugs."Why so complicated? I can just leave these in a bathroom stall. I'll just make sure he uses it after me."

Nomi picks up the mouthwash bottles, examines them closely. "What about the pills?"

"I'll leave those too if he's just there. As I told Kala, security is mostly concerned with weapons and things that make weapons- like liquids. For so few pills, no one will care." Wolfgang seems blasé about the whole thing; it makes Kala nervous. "The only one to care may be Viktor's man, but I'll make sure he isn't around."

Nomi seems to accept his logic. "I'll coordinate with Oscar and probably ask him to help with this search since it's in Dutch. I'll let you know what we find." She looks from Kala to Wolfgang. "Sorry for interrupting."

Wolfgang smiles faintly, nods. "Thank you," he says. 

Nomi looks momentarily taken aback, but she smiles suddenly - "You're welcome"- and departs as abruptly as she appeared.

Kala frowns, trying not to think of everything that can go wrong. "I don't know what we'll do if you are detained for the pills or the meds are discovered in the false packages."

She worries for Will and for Riley, as much as for Wolfgang.

"They won't be," he says with the confidence of a man who's done this before.

"And what about the job in Amsterdam?" Her eyes meet his in the mirror.

He shrugs. "It's just a safe."

They are silent for a long moment before Wolfgang reaches for her and holds her. He is so calm in the face of her anxiety that she lets his bravado smother her concern, feels herself relaxing into his embrace.

" _Können_ _jetzt_   _unsere_ _Flitterwochen_ _fortsetzen_   _bitte_ _?_ " he murmurs into her ear.  _Can we please continue with our honeymoon?_ His hands have crept under her robe, making long strokes across her flank, down her backside, drawing her up against his arousal.

She lets herself be distracted.

...

They don't leave the hotel room at all, destroying the fruit basket, ordering room service and enjoying the view of the crescent shoreline when dusk descends and twinkling city lights appear.

He doesn't ask because he knows she can't spend the night. He can tell by her pensive silence that it weighs heavily on her.

"You should leave now, Kala, before you worry your family." Such concerns never would have occurred to him, but he knows they trouble her. She'd taken the day off from work to be with him, but spoken to her father twice just to check in, as she normally would. 

She shakes her head, burrows a little closer to him in the bed. "What if something happens to you? What if this is all we have?"

He hugs her, kisses her forehead. "Nothing will happen, _Schatz_. When this is over, I'll come back." He gives a low chuckle. "I'll bring Felix. He wants to meet your sister."

There is a startled gasp from Kala before she, too, smiles at the thought. Daya would be shocked.

"Besides," adds Wolfgang, "you can visit me later tonight." He gives a lazy smile and rolls partially over her, bracing himself with his arm. "We won't need to fumble over condoms." He nuzzles his face against her neck, dragging a laugh from her as the stubble tickles her skin. 

He walks her to a cab when she leaves half an hour later. He pays the driver ahead of time and watches until it is no longer in sight before he goes back to the hotel.

Viktor's man is sitting in the lobby, reading an English-language magazine. He makes eye contact with Wolfgang as he walks by, gives a faint smirk.

" _Idi na_ _khui,_ " says Wolfgang under his breath, but loud enough for the Russian to hear.  _Fuck off._

The man smiles and returns to his reading.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standing thanks to Foulbearhideout.tumblr.com and KinoGlowWorm :-)
> 
> Thank you to everyone reading. Comments are always appreciated!


	9. Amsterdam

By the time the plane lands in Paris for a layover, Wolfgang feels like shit; his body is stiff and cramped, and exhaustion creeps into his bones. He's been on a plane for 11 hours with another hour or two to go and hasn't heard yet from either Nomi or Viktor.  

Wolfgang passed through security at Mumbai without incident:  As tedious as it was to fill them, the sealed mouthwash bottles raise no alarms, and neither does the bottle containing the anticonvulsants officially prescribed to Wolfgang Berner.  Next time, when he has more notice,  he'll find bottles small enough to put the liquids in and forge prescriptions for those, too.

Wolfgang stretches his frame, frowns slightly, thinking about Kala.  She was at security with him - just in case - but he could sense her agitation, one would almost say anger, although he had no idea why:  She never got angry with anyone except _him_ , and they'd parted without rancor- just the opposite. He would have tried connecting with her once he is on the plane, but they have an unspoken agreement that he doesn't disturb her at work, so he refrains from doing so, although he worries something has happened. 

The Frenchman sitting in the seat next to him gets up and leaves, and Wolfgang thinks he has the remaining leg of his flight alone, except he notices the man doesn't take his bag from the overhead. The seat, however, is immediately taken by Nomi.

“The house is owned by a French expat, Marc Brouchard. There are rumors that Brouchard did business with your uncle, but I'm not seeing any other relationship to other _vor_.” Nomi pauses; she is talking to someone else -Wolfgang guesses it's her partner, Amanita- and her face grows animated. “He was the CFO of a French pharmaceutical company and resigned 8 years ago under some cloud that was covered up because the company was about to go global. I bet ‘the cloud’ was Sergei, and I think your uncle must have given him something that could interfere with Anatoly’s business. I'll talk to you when you're in Amsterdam; Oscar should be by the baggage claim.”  She is gone before the Frenchman returns, and Wolfgang gets up to at least walk down the aisle and ignore his handler, sitting in coach. 

. . .

While it's over twelve hours of flight time from Mumbai to Amsterdam, with the short layover and time zone changes, Wolfgang arrives at Schiphol Airport at almost 8 in the evening. He turns on the smartphone as the plane taxis and finds two messages from Viktor:  The first is a notification that fifty thousand euros has been deposited into a Swiss bank account opened under his alias of Bernner. 

Wolfgang rolls his eyes, annoyed that he would have a need for something so cliché as a “Swiss bank account”: The Bogdanows kept their fortunes well and truly laundered in German banks.  

The second message tells him to wait in the baggage area for his contact, which makes Wolfgang mutter “ _fick_ ” under his breath.  The damn baggage area is apparently the meeting spot of choice for intrigue. He will need to find Oscar before Viktor's man arrives and starts asking questions. 

With his handler sitting in coach,  it's easy enough to lose the Russian for a few minutes as Wolfgang gets off the plane and clears through passport control before it turns into a serpentine queue. The Russian is not quite so lucky. 

Wolfgang frowns as he heads down the escalator to the baggage claim. The extra time is wasted if he doesn't even know what Nomi's friend looks like to intercept him.  

“He's right there.” There is a rush of relief in Nomi's voice as she walks two paces behind Wolfgang. The area is crammed full of travelers, and he's not sure who it is she's referring to until he spots a tall, thin man in his early 40s, walking ahead: nondescript, dressed like any other business man on travel, carrying a briefcase. He has a sudden memory of this man being younger, working with someone else - _Bug_  - he thinks, and he knows that it's Oscar. “He's heading to 13 to wait for you,” Nomi says before their connection is broken. 

Wolfgang walks faster, deliberately making hard contact with his duffle bag to Oscar's arm, and seeming to pause and apologize when he really just leans in and says in English: “Oscar? Last stall at the end.”

Wolfgang walks past the baggage carousels and enters the men's room. The entire process is effortless:  The restroom is almost completely empty and no one is using a stall. Wolfgang goes to the back stall, removes a clear plastic bag from his duffle containing the mouthwash bottles and prescription pills- after he removes the personal information - and lays it on top of the toilet paper. He pokes his head out of the stall and leaves when he catches Oscar coming in.

Wolfgang is at carousel 13, waiting for his lone suitcase when Oscar emerges several minutes later and gives a faint but stiff nod when he catches Wolfgang's eye. Wolfgang gives no response. 

“ _Wer ist das?_ ” Who is that? 

Wolfgang cocks his head to the side, notices a neat, well dressed man, roughly his age, standing behind him.  His hands are tattooed.

Wolfgang shrugs.  He responds to him in German.  “Some _S_ _cheisskopf_  I almost knocked over.” He grabs his suitcase as it lumbers toward him on the belt and turns to the man. “You're my contact?” 

The man nods. “So says Viktor.”  They don't wait for Wolfgang's handler; the man gestures for Wolfgang to follow. He introduces himself as Haufman and tells him that he's to provide Wolfgang with whatever is needed to get the job done. The residents of the house where the safe is located are leaving for London in two days and will be gone for three; there is standard electronic security, but the room where the safe is located is also locked with a keypad, and he reminds Wolfgang that it's important to leave no sign that anyone has been to the safe. 

Wolfgang doesn't see this as being much different than the diamonds.  He refuses the offer of a lookout but does request a folding stool: “Could take a while and it's easier on my knees,” he shrugs. 

There's a certain thrill to making plans with Haufman as he's driven to a hotel twenty minutes from the airport, in the heart of Amsterdam.  He tells Haufman that he wants to try the safe as soon as the residents are gone; he's assured that there is someone who can disable the electronic security for him. The house sits in a residential neighborhood, so transportation is also discussed; a driver will be provided.  

They arrive at the hotel where a room has already been booked for him. Wolfgang is given a keycard, and makes plans to meet Haufman in the morning to go over finer details and what it is he's to do once the safe is opened. 

It's nearly 9:30 pm when Wolfgang enters his room, unceremoniously drops his things on the floor before he thinks to find the charger to the smartphone.  He plugs it in with the phone before he strips and crawls into the hotel bed.  

He finds himself in her bed, although he didn't consciously will himself there. He draws Kala close, burrows his head against her hair, before falling asleep almost immediately.

...

The next day begins the wait. 

In the morning, he is picked up to meet with Haufman for breakfast at his home, where Wolfgang is given the small folding stool he requested. They look through a reproduction of the upstairs plan and verify which room has the keypad and therefore the safe. Haufman tells him where cameras are located and discusses time and meeting points and the manner Wolfgang will enter the S&D room.  Power to the neighborhood will be cut off for 10 minutes, but he'll only have about 90 seconds to get inside before the backup generator kicks in and the cameras and alarms are on again; Wolfgang intends to enter through a window and not fuck around with keypads since no one seems to know what kind it is. Haufman repeats Viktor's vague direction to grab the paper or papers marked “by product” and to leave everything else. For the millionth time, Wolfgang's reminded to leave no sign anyone has been there. Haufman will meet him in the morning to collect the papers. 

Wolfgang is driven back to his hotel, and he occupies himself the rest of the afternoon by going through his own mental checklist for the job ahead, calling Felix to see how he's doing, and going for a long jog along the canals, exploring the city in the process. He doesn't leave his hotel room otherwise. 

He deliberately avoids reaching out to Kala, vaguely superstitious about doing so, although at night, just as he had yesterday, he finds himself back in her bed without much conscious thought. He curls around her body, but it is just early enough in Mumbai that Kala stretches awake, rolls over to greet him with a sleepy half smile, and initiates the lovemaking that they hadn't had the previous night. Whatever had been bothering her yesterday was no longer an issue. He is with her until she gets up to ready for work. 

In a town just north of Amsterdam, the couple living in the house leaves in the afternoon. 

While he waits in his hotel room for the appointed time to arrive, Wolfgang feels a thrumming at the edge of his consciousness: an excited chatter that ripples through him, counterbalanced by a heaviness that Wolfgang doesn't expect. 

He flashes suddenly to a bedroom, and they're all there: Nomi, Lito, Sun, Capheus, and himself, flanking a small room occupied in real life by a woman Wolfgang doesn't know, and Riley, who is shaking on the edge of the bed she sits on, staring intently at Will, who coughs and sputters and gasps for breath before he finally settles into himself.  Kala stands beside them both, and Wolfgang moves to reach her before her legs give out.

_We almost lost him._

She is shaking, and she leans against him as much for physical support as any emotional need.  She is wearing her lab coat.

Riley edges closer to Will, strokes the hair damp with perspiration from his face, holds his hand.  “Will,” she whispers. There's a world of emotion in that single utterance. “Are you ok?”

Will looks at her with bleary eyes, his face covered in sweat, but he nods his head, and his expression is anxious. Riley leans in and kisses him quickly, reassuringly. The unknown woman steps forward and takes Will's vitals, confirms his heart rate is a little high but slowing back to normal. She looks immensely relieved as she cautions him to not over-exert himself or over-eat for the next week or more, as his body readjusts to being awake. She tells Riley to call her if she needs her, and Riley gives a grateful smile when the woman leaves. 

“I can feel them. Are they here?” Will lays back against the headboard, looking blankly around. 

Riley turns her head, as if noticing for the first time that the Cluster is there, not just Kala. She nods.

“I can't see them, but I can feel them,” he gives a faint smile.

“Can you hear us?” Kala asks, but Will doesn't respond. 

“Can you hear anyone talking?” 

Will holds still. “No.”  There is a faint hitch in his voice, an unexpected sense of loss, knowing he's disconnected from the others. And Wolfgang realizes what he'd felt earlier, what drew him here, was not just Kala, but the sensation of a break in the Cluster’s connection.

“Tell him it's ok,” says Kala, and she sounds an odd mix of pain and triumph; she also feels that void where Will had been, and she hadn't expected it to be so empty. “It was the only thing I could think of to block out Whispers; he needs to be blocked from us.  But it shouldn't be complete, so it's good he can sense us all here. He will need to be given another injection in four to six hours; we need to see how long before it wears out. And at least now, he can be awake while we think of how to deal with Whispers.”  Kala looks quickly at Wolfgang, her voice faltering, even as Riley repeats what she said to Will. 

One plan had come immediately to Wolfgang, and Kala shakes her head. “It won't solve everything, _Mera_ _Pyaara_ ,” she says to him. “It won't stop who he works for.”

Will absorbs his new reality. He nods, even as his expression reflects their collective pain. Only Riley, who is there in person with Will, seems unaffected. She strokes his hair, trying to smooth the troubled expression he wears.

But in an instant, his expression changes, twists into a grim smirk.

“Tell them that I can't hear or see _him,_ either, but I can feel he's here, and I can feel his rage. He can't reach me. He can't reach us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to update regularly, but real life sometimes gets in the way:-P
> 
> (And language errors are my own this time as I try not to bother anyone for first-year translations...)
> 
> Thank you for reading, and as always, comments are always appreciated!


	10. Worries

Kala sits in the cafeteria, staring at a cup of tea nestled between her hands. She permits herself a tiny ripple of triumph.

Will is awake, and while the drug is not perfect - he must take the anticonvulsant to prevent a repeat of what happened that afternoon - Will is coherent, and Whispers cannot reach him.

That, she thinks, is a tremendous relief, and an accomplishment of which she is pleased. She offers a small thanks to Ganesha.

She sits back against the metal chair, thinking how quickly it had all happened. Riley appeared in the lab just 20 minutes ago, as Kala was inputting data on a project with her colleague. The nurse had arrived; it was time to try the drug.

Kala excused herself and headed to the lavatory, telling her colleague she felt suddenly unwell, but declining assistance.

She entered the empty lavatory and found herself in a small bedroom. Riley was at Will's bedside, preparing a needle while the two sealed mouthwash bottles lay in front of her on the nightstand. Kala instructed Riley to try the original drug first, showed her which bottle to open, and told her the dosage to use on Will. Kala watched as Riley turned Will's left arm, injecting the drug intravenously. They waited for less than half a minute for it to enter his system.

Then the convulsions started.

Kala took over Riley, rolled Will to his side, away from her, supported his head so he doesn't choke. Will's body strained in the throes of a gran mal seizure. His limbs flailed, and the nurse told Kala/Riley not to restrain him as she moved a nearby glass of water out of reach and grabbed the bedsheets so he didn't tangle in them as his legs jerked. Will's chest clenched in dry-heaves but he didn't vomit; his face flushed a bright red, and his heart beat so furiously that Kala could count beats per minute from the vein pulsing at his throat. The nurse worried for his heart rate, saying they must call for an ambulance: She and Riley objected, aware it would be a death sentence for all of them, afraid they will lose Will anyway.

And then she felt it: a "snap" in her head that can only be compared to a sudden blow, followed by an aching emptiness very similar to the pain she felt when Wolfgang had deliberately blocked her from himself. The snap is so strong and unexpected that she was jolted out of Riley's body as Will stopped shaking and opened his eyes. His color returned to normal.

Kala shook and would have collapsed but for Wolfgang holding her up. She hadn't even noticed him, or that the rest of the Cluster had appeared.

It had been bittersweet to know Whispers had come to Will and been denied, because so had  _they._

"Kala."

It takes her a moment to recollect herself. She watches Rajan as he sits across from her. He's drinking a cup of coffee with cream and sugar.

"Are you ok?"

Kala's head tilts quizzically before her face clears. She'd been gone for 15 minutes with Riley. It felt like hours. "Yes," she says nodding. "I felt a bit unwell earlier."

"I went to see you and they told me," he says, taking a sip of his coffee. Kala lifts her own cup, drinking her tea, puts it down with fingers that suddenly flutter in nervousness. She's not sure why she's nervous; she's spoken to Rajan several times since returning to work, although their prior encounter had left her furious. If anything, she tells herself, she should be angry, not nervous.

Rajan reaches for her, entwines his fingers with hers, as he used to do, and they stare silently at their linked hands, feeling an unexpected, mutual sadness. Kala sees how bare her finger looks without the ring that once adorned it, can feel Rajan's wistfulness.

But the sight of their hands interlocked brings with it a memory of other hands, fairer than his, mixed with hers. She disentangles her fingers from his, curling them around her cup, and takes another sip of tea.

Rajan's mouth twists a little; he sighs. "I want to apologize again about the other day," he finally says, staring at his coffee. "I had no right to accost you like that, when we're no longer engaged. But I just had to understand." He looks up at her, his expression wounded. "I don't know how you met him. I just want to know if…" he shrugs and makes an impatient little gesture with his hands. "How did you meet this _gora_? _When_? When, while we were promised to each other? I know you said you were not unfaithful, Kala, but he was here, in Mumbai." Rajan's voice doesn't rise, but there's an odd undercurrent to his jealous tone that hadn't been there before, and it makes her feel as if somehow, she has offended him deeply.

For several seconds, Kala stares at Rajan blankly, and then her anger of the other day returns.

Someone who knows her had seen her at the airport; had seen her kiss Wolfgang and felt compelled to report the encounter to Rajan. And he, in turn, felt compelled to confront Kala about it shortly after she arrived for work, the day Wolfgang left for Amsterdam. Kala and Rajan had argued; she had been furious.

Yesterday, Rajan apologized for upsetting her and said nothing more. She had accepted his apology, and thought that was the end of the matter.

"Rajan," she says warningly, "we are done discussing this. I told you before that I am sorry someone decided to make trouble and tell you these things when it is not their business. But I will not speak to you about this."

"Do your parents know?" Rajan watches her face and smiles bitterly. "Do they know he's a _gora_  and that he was here to visit you? They don't know, do they? You didn't take him to meet them, did you?"

"Is that what is bothering you?" she demands, shocked. "That he's _white_?" Rajan doesn't answer, flushes under her brittle stare.

"Kala," he says, but she stands and leaves, even angrier than the day before.

The encounter with Rajan mars the rest of her day and diminishes her pleasure in finally waking Will.

During her remaining hour of work, she finishes as if nothing is wrong, but she is suddenly hyperaware of her colleagues, feels curious eyes on her and wonders if everyone knows. For the first time in her memory, she leaves work precisely on time.

Kala goes home, says little of her day to her parents and asks to be excused from dinner. She tells them she's unwell and retires to her bedroom. She checks in on Will, and finds that he is asleep of his own volition, tired from the trauma of the day. He doesn't stir when she bends down to whisper his name in his ear. Riley assures Kala he's ok and that he's taken the anticonvulsant.

It's still early wherever they are, so a few hours later, before Kala retires for the night in Mumbai, she sees them again, when Will is awake and eating carefully. He has not had another seizure, although Riley gave him another injection as soon as he felt a heightened awareness of Riley.

Kala nods, asks Riley to keep a journal of pretty much everything: what time the injection is given; what Will's reaction is; what he feels immediately before and after; what he eats; when he sleeps; most importantly, when he feels or senses Whispers or anyone in the Cluster. Will can feel her presence but isn't sure which of the Cluster is there. He is just grateful to be awake and lucid and living again; he can turn his attention back to helping the Cluster. He looks at Riley, holds her hand. Kala is happy for them.

Kala returns to herself but can't calm down. She worries about Will, she worries about Wolfgang, she is so upset with Rajan but worries whether he'll say something to her parents. She tosses and turns in her bed, wishing that Wolfgang is there.

She is suddenly in a cell in South Korea, sitting on the cold concrete floor, eyeing Sun apologetically.

"I can't sleep," she says sheepishly. "Can we just talk?"

Sun lifts an eyebrow, smiles faintly, but nods. Sun was used to these visits before Wolfgang reconciled with Kala, and she never seemed to mind, no matter the hour. Oddly, Kala feels closer to Sun than anyone else in the Cluster, even Riley or Capheus. But perhaps it isn't so odd, because Kala thinks Sun is much like Wolfgang.

Sun sits up to make room and Kala gets up to sit next to her on the bunk in solitary. She accepts the blanket Sun hands over to cover herself from the chill of the prison cell; Kala is wearing a thin camisole and loose shorts, more appropriate for Indian nights than a Korean prison.

"It is very convenient that you always seem to be in solitary when I need to talk to you," she says lightly, smiling at Sun."You were fighting again?"

"Always." Sun smiles wryly. She lays back against the wall. "What, exactly, are you so disturbed about that you can't sleep?"

Kala thinks about Wolfgang, and the fact that he isn't with her tonight because he is breaking into a safe somewhere near Amsterdam for the Russian mob. It is so surreal it barely registers.

But if she is truly being honest, that isn't the real reason why she is still awake. And because Sun is a part of her, it is impossible to lie.

"I'm afraid that Rajan will tell my parents about Wolfgang," she says softly, shame creeping into her voice. "I'm afraid he'll tell them that I was with Wolfgang just two days ago, but never brought him home to meet them. I'm afraid of what they'll say... especially my father."

"Why?" Sun asks, and she fixes a curious stare at Kala, tilts her head as though processing the surge of emotions she feels rippling through her. "Because you think what Rajan implies is true? That they'll be upset because he's a _gora_?"

Kala lets out a pained breath, rests her head on her knees, drawn up so that her feet rest on the cot. "I don't know what they'll make of that," she admits. "I just ended my engagement to Rajan because I don't love him: But how could I bring Wolfgang to meet them so soon? I told them there is someone else, but .. " She gives a muffled groan and burrows her head even deeper into her knees. She doesn't need to say it, but Sun knows Kala has no desire to disappoint her parents anymore than she's already done, and, yes...she is worried about their reaction to Wolfgang, wonders if they'll react like Rajan.

Sun smirks a little at that. If they ever learn a thing about him, Wolfgang's race will be the least of their concerns.

Sun sighs. "Well," she says, refraining from making that observation, "if they have a problem with that -which I doubt- then they'll need to get over it, won't they, when they learn that _you_  are now also a _gora_?"

Kala lets out a startled huff.

But of course it's true. She isn't just herself anymore: She's all ethnicities, several nationalities. American and Kenyan, Icelandic, Spanish and Korean. German. She hadn't thought of it that way, but if the Cluster is truly connected...well, she's many things she'd never thought to be. She gives a slight smile, wondering how she will ever explain. 

"Is that the only reason you didn't bring him to meet your family?" Sun asks, knowing the answer.

Kala's smile fades. She sits up, weary. When Wolfgang had been in Mumbai, they had talked about him coming back to be with her, but neither had brought up introducing him to her parents.

"If I introduce him," she says, "they will expect that we are serious enough to think of marriage, but I don't know if that is something Wolfgang will ever consider." Kala looks at Sun with tired eyes, smiles faintly. "I could barely convince him to be with me. I don't know if he believes in anything so conventional as marriage. And I didn't want to ruin anything by asking."

Kala shakes her head, shrugs. "I guess, these are really nothing," she says. "I worry about things that I can't control." She smiles a little sadly in the dimness of the cell. "I knew when I broke off my engagement that it would disappoint my family. They think the world of Rajan. But I will always choose Wolfgang. However way that may turn out to be."

They are silent for a while before Kala grows drowsy and thanks Sun, wishing her a goodnight, grateful for her patience and blunt counsel. Kala returns to her bedroom in Mumbai, finds it strange that Wolfgang isn't in her bed when her head hits the pillow.

_Kala._

She thinks she's dreaming, but Wolfgang sits at the edge of her bed, dressed completely in black. A gloved hand rests on her ankle.

"What is it?" she sits up, alarmed, remembering where he is, what he is doing. "What's wrong?"

And then she is wherever he is: crouched beside him as he sits on a small stool in an office lit only by moonlight, in front of an opened safe, papers on his lap. He holds something out for her to see.

It's in Cyrillic script, but she reads it, and her brows furrow, because she looks at a list of chemicals, attributed to different sources in different amounts on different dates. But the chemicals comprise a drug, DMT, that Riley had taken the first time she visited Will. And of the five pages, each labeled "По продукту" - "By Product"- the chemicals are essentially the same, except for the last two pages.

And those pages are the chemicals that comprise a variation of the antipsychotic she gave to Will.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> As always, comments are much appreciated.


	11. The Job

Wolfgang finds it soothing to concentrate on the silence, listening for the familiar slide of metal that ends with a subtle, disruptive click. The patience required to manipulate a lock is otherwise absent from his world.

Breaking into the house had been remarkably easy. For a villa that is probably worth around 2 million euros, the security is shit: Cameras are trained on the front and back doors, the carport on the south side of the house, and the back of the house. There's no camera on the bare north side, separated from the neighbor's property by large trees that cast long, dark shadows. And even if there had been, the cameras aren't night vision, but rely solely on the exterior lighting, which is set for ambience: They wouldn't have caught him in the shadows, dressed in black, hoisting himself up onto the deck, and climbing over the metal railing. He doesn't need to enter through a window after all; the upstairs rooms have new doors so there's access to the wraparound deck. He was lucky to notice it in one of the pictures he'd been given earlier: He'd been distracted by the events with the Cluster.

But there are still alarms to the doors and windows, and the back camera captures the door to the target room, so when Haufman signals that the power is cut, Wolfgang moves quickly with a set of bump keys. As expected from the quality of the cameras, the expensive doors have upgraded but standard locks, and the first bump key lets him in in seconds. He's already inside what turns out to be an office, headlamp on, checking if the area around the safe has the combo written down, when he hears the faint beep of the keypad to the interior door reset; the back up power is working. Wolfgang is somewhat surprised that he doesn't find a combination lying around.

The S&D is located under a credenza behind a large desk. Wolfgang sits on the folding stool between the furniture, eyes closed, leaning into the safe as if doing so will amplify the sound already transmitting through his earpieces from the microphone he'd taped beside the dial. He hasn't done this since the diamond heist, but as he turns the wheel to find the contact points, he pushes aside the ever-present sounds of the Cluster - although most, including Kala, are asleep - and closes his mind to everything but the faint click of the drive pin catching a wheel fly.

It may have been awhile, but he's cracked this type of safe before: He finds the contact area, discovers the number of wheels, and the numbers that make up the combination in 45 minutes. Ten minutes after that, the S&D opens.

It's a large safe, but its contents are few and the two accordion folders take up most of the space. There are also two jewelry boxes that give him pause: They're Tiffany and look like a necklace and bracelet. He can practically hear Felix egging him on to take the contents and leave the boxes. But he doesn't, and grabs the smaller of the two accordion folders and puts it on his lap. He turns off his headlamp: The moonlight filtering in from the windows is dim but sufficient to see the pages.

The folder holds several neatly tabbed files that are unlabeled. He pulls out all the inner files at once and puts the empty folder on top of the S&D. The first file contains loose paper; printouts of email messages although they aren't in any particular order. They're mostly in English. He flips the file upside down and rests it on the ground, moving to the next file. He proceeds in this fashion for several minutes; most of the documents are emails, a few letters. Almost all are in English, although a few are in French. There's nothing marked "By Product " in either language that he can tell. When he's done, he picks up the files on the floor and flips them back the correct way before returning them to the folder. He returns the small accordion folder to the safe.

The large accordion folder isn't as neat as the small one, and it's stuffed with documents that make it difficult to look through as easily. Wolfgang only grabs half of the files and leaves the rest in the folder.

The files are mostly financial statements: hard copies of reports written in French, although the numbers are universal enough. Receipts, invoices, and correspondence are attached to some statements. Some of the pages have handwritten notes along the margins, but when he gets to reports for the previous fiscal year, he stops cold. The notes are in Russian and make vague references to dates with initials alongside. Some of the notations look like they reference Viktor.

All of the notes are in his uncle's handwriting.

One of the notations is  _CBP РФ _.__

 _Scheisse,_ he thinks.  _Vot govno._

He can't help but curse in both languages.

Wolfgang looks more closely at the documents in his gloved hands, knows they seem to disclose influxes of cash at various quarters during the fiscal year.

His smartphone goes off and he sees a message from Haufman, asking if he's in yet. Wolfgang texts back he's close, but not yet, returns the phone to his pocket. He grabs his own phone -or rather, Felix's - from an interior pocket, lays the financial statements from the file flat on the ground, and takes pictures of the docs with Sergei's notations and the reference to the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service. The flashes from the camera are jarring, but he wants to be able to look at these later: Who knows if they'll come in handy some day?

He continues methodically through the remaining files, takes a few more pictures, before he finishes with the first stack and reaches for the rest of the files in the large folder. He gets through most of the second stack before he finally comes across documents that look like invoices and might contain something labeled "By Product".

He texts Haufman on the smartphone that he's cracked the S&D.

In the midst of the financial statements, the slim file containing a brief narrative along with what look like shipping details stands out. Or at least, would have stood out even if they weren't already in Russian. They are cryptic, but appear to follow shipments of goods across ports of call all over the world. Towards the end, he finds five pages clipped together, each tagged " _По продукту _" - "By Product".__  He stares at the last two pages with a deep frown. They nag at him because he's seen the items on the list before, and as he thinks it, he's in Kala's room, sitting on her bed. 

Her back is turned to him, and the bed sheet is twisted a little around her hips although a leg is kicked back, exposed. He puts his hand on her ankle, squeezes it lightly.

"Kala."

He repeats her name twice before she stirs; she sits up, alarmed, wondering what's wrong.

When he hands her the papers, she is sitting on the floor beside him, focuses bleary eyes on the pages illuminated by moonlight, and adjusts to the Russian before her brows snap together and her body tenses. He watches her eyes scan the first three pages multiple times, widen at the last two before she scans those last pages a second and third time as well.

"Wolfgang," she says softly, her eyes meeting his. She struggles for words. Her eyes mirror his confusion; and maybe a little alarm.

"That's your drug, isn't it  _Schatz _?"__  he asks. He lets out a breath when she nods her head. 

"I modified an antipsychotic that seems to suppress the brain activity that occurs when we connect," she says. "I combined another psychotropic drug, but this…" Kala shakes her head. "This is close...it could work too." She lets out a huff. "And the chemicals here-," Kala flips to the first three pages, gesturing to all of it. "These make up the drug Riley took when she first connected with Will."

Wolfgang looks blankly at her. He didn't know what those pages were; assumed they were just another narcotic being trafficked by whomever was responsible for the list. "You're sure?" he asks.

"Yes." Kala remembers when she'd learned that Riley had taken a drug the night she connected with Will. Kala had asked all sorts of questions about what it was and how Riley had felt. That the drug, DMT, is naturally occurring intrigued Kala; just the most basic research brought out a wealth of information since the drug was identified decades ago.

Wolfgang looks puzzled. "But the chemicals on the last two pages - the ones that make up your drug- don't make you high."

"No. The drug might be addicting over time; I can't tell yet. But it won't make you high."

"So why make it? Why sell it?"

"Unless you know it can lead to what Riley experienced...and you need to stop it." Kala shakes her head, shivers a little in the darkness; Wolfgang sits down beside her and wraps an arm around her bare shoulders.

"Whose files are these?" she asks. She can feel him shrug.

"Brouchard? That's the man Nomi says owns this house."

His smartphone goes off, and Wolfgang is surprised it's a call from Viktor. He answers warily.

"Did you find it?" Viktor asks.

Wolfgang pauses. " _Da _."__

There's someone else speaking to Viktor, and Wolfgang waits a moment while he's put on mute. When Viktor returns, his voice gives nothing away. "There are other papers there that are in Russian, or were marked up in Russian. Take those too."

Wolfgang hesitates, wonders whether he should admit to having seen them.

Viktor sighs on the other end of the line. "If they aren't there, Wolfgang, say so. But if they are, and you don't bring them, you will have a much bigger problem than me."

"I'm not through looking at all the papers." Wolfgang says.

"Be quick," is all Viktor replies before he hangs up.

Kala stares back at him with wide eyes. "What else did you find?"

"Financial records that my uncle wrote on, and that Viktor also wants." Wolfgang returns the smartphone to his pocket. "I took pictures on another phone. I'll need to look at them closely. I don't know what this is about, but maybe the statements will tell me."

"I can look at them when you're back in your hotel."

Kala smiles gratefully at Sun. She'd been the first person Kala thought of when Wolfgang mentioned the financial statements. "I'm sorry to bother you again," Kala says. "But thank you."

Sun nods, smiles faintly. "It's been awhile since I've been needed for anything other than fighting," she says blandly.

"Let me finish here, then." Wolfgang takes the list from Kala, turns to Sun, sitting beside her. "I'll show you when I get back."

Sun nods, is gone before he can thank her as well.

"I have to leave for work."

Wolfgang is back in Kala's bedroom, where it's already morning and her alarm is going off. She rolls over in her bed to turn it off, sits up and cups his face. "Be careful, _mera Jaan_."

He kisses her quickly before he is gone from her and back in the house.

He spends a few more minutes going through the rest of the files, but there are no more with Sergei's notations or marked "By Product". He flips over the first set of files and locates the financial statements from the previous fiscal year, sets them aside with the others Viktor wants. When he has them all, he returns the files to the folder and the folder to the safe. He locks the S&D, removes his microphone from the door and texts Haufman to shut off power again as he puts everything away in the knapsack while he waits.

Since the keypad isn't an issue exiting, Wolfgang leaves through the doors once the power is shut off and meets his Russian handler at a designated spot down the street.

It's odd to complete a heist without a feeling of exhilaration, without Felix in a celebratory mood. Without a sizable haul in the knapsack.

All Wolfgang feels is a growing worry.

But there's a side of him that's already wondering if what he has really isn't of more value to him than the shitload of money and promise of peace - which he already thinks is bullshit - that he gets.

And he wonders what it's about and how he can use it, because it's clearly worth something to someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: The house I describe here really exists, with a few modifications, and I actually found the plans for the second floor on the Internet. 
> 
> Thank you again, KinoGlowWorm, and thank you, luckyn02, for the Hindi endearment:-)
> 
> Thanks for reading. As always, comments are much appreciated!


	12. Flowers

When she arrives at work, Kala is stunned to find flowers covering the office she shares with two other pharmacists. She looks around the room and gasps in disbelief at dozens of arrangements on desks, on window ledges, on cabinets. She happens to arrive at work the same time as her officemate, Siya, who gives a startled laugh behind her and immediately walks over to the largest bouquet, where a bright red envelope addressed to Kala sits. 

“I bet I know who these are from!” Kala accepts the envelope Siya hands to her. She recognizes the handwriting on the plain white card; the words are in English.   _Forgive me. -R_

Kala shakes her head, lips thinning in disapproval. She doesn't know what to make of Rajan's grandiose gesture. There was a time when she never would have questioned him. But after yesterday...

At Kala's less-than-enthusiastic response, Siya contains her curiosity and says nothing. But when their officemate arrives for work and gushes over the spectacular display, they both loudly speculate that Rajan is trying to win Kala back, and isn't this just like that movie? Kala shakes her head, says it's not like that at all, when her cellphone buzzes. She takes it from her lab coat to find a message from Rajan, asking if she likes the flowers. 

Kala is not prone to cursing, but _scheisse_  escapes her lips before she can contain it. 

“I'm going to the lab,” she says, grabbing her gloves and tablet. Her colleagues nod, unsure why she is annoyed. 

Perhaps it's exhaustion and worry from the events of this morning, but Kala is irritated as she pauses in the hallway to compose a response to Rajan's text. She ponders his motivation and intent, but in the end, merely texts her thanks, with a comment that it was unnecessary.

When she reaches the lab, she heads to her workstation at the far corner. There are only two others there this morning, and it isn't long before she settles in, loses herself in her work.  She is genuinely surprised when she looks up from the project she works on with Siya because it's time for lunch and Siya asks if she wants to go out.  Kala declines. She should see Riley and check on Will; she thinks of the papers in the S&D, the list of chemicals, and the notations on the financial statements, and thinks she needs to visit with Sun, too. Kala saves her work on the tablet, removes her gloves and safety glasses, and goes back to her office, where she's alone.  She pulls out her phone and puts the ear buds on, in the event anyone sees her talking to thin air. 

She senses a low-level thrum of anxiety from Riley and visits her first before realizing her mistake and retreating to her office. She'd felt Riley's worry about Will's physical well-being without simultaneously sensing Will's emotions and inadvertently intruded on a... _reunion_. Kala's face heats up as she blocks out the sensation of sex: of Will's hands on Riley, of his mouth on hers, and her hands exploring him. Kala feels the intensity drawing her - pulling like a magnet. 

And that's just Riley's emotions. What must it be like to feel Will's, too?

Kala is suddenly mortified at how she must have felt for the rest of the Cluster. No one has ever said anything to her, but she suspects that isn't true for Wolfgang. 

And just like that, she finds herself in his hotel room. Except he's asleep, although he's at least fully dressed, and he's not alone. 

Sun sits at a desk, staring at Wolfgang's phone, reviewing the financial statements. She manipulates the photos, flips between pictures, makes them larger, and takes notes in a cell in Korea. 

“Sex between the two of you is distracting,” offers Sun quietly, so as not to disturb Wolfgang. She doesn't turn from her notes. “If it had happened any earlier in our connection, I'm not sure that any of us would have known how to stay away, especially since it is sex between members of our own Cluster.”

“Oh.” Kala blushes even though Sun isn't even looking at her. She doesn't want to know any more. Kala moves to stand beside Sun, leaving Wolfgang to sleep, with an arm flung over his eyes. 

Kala pauses to marvel again at how their connection works: how Sun can maneuver a physical object without a true physical presence. Sun doesn't bother with physics; she is too busy simply living it in solitary confinement in Southern Cheongju Women's Prison while simultaneously sitting in a hotel room in Amsterdam. “Just as you are here in this hotel room while simultaneously in Mumbai.”

“She thinks our connection is a miracle.”

Sun lets out an inelegant huff as Kala turns to Wolfgang, walks back to his bedside. He watches her sleepily, but reaches an arm out to her when she's near enough, drawing her closer. “I'm at work,” she says unnecessarily, his hand sliding up the back of her knee. 

Wolfgang smirks up at her. “So I see,” he murmurs, noting her lab coat but failing to stop his exploration up her skirt to the inside of her thigh. Kala catches her breath and glances uneasily at Sun, who finally turns from her notes to smirk back at her. “I'll leave you two alone,” she says. “I have a lot of other things to look at. I'll tell you what I find.”

Wolfgang doesn't stop, with or without Sun. “But I'm at work.” Kala's breath catches, her eyes close briefly as Wolfgang's fingers brush casually against her prim cotton underwear. She looks back at him as his hand curves around the inside of her thigh, thumb hooking unerringly to the tender spot between her legs, stroking her through her underwear until she quivers. He sits up a little, eyes hooded, and coaxes her onto the bed. 

“Kala?”

She starts from her chair so violently that she bangs a knee against the desk. She removes her ear buds and turns around, face flushed, at Rajan.

“I'm so sorry to startle you, my -” He pauses, stops himself from the endearment. “Were you sleeping? Siya told me you were here. Will you come to lunch with me? Please?” He smiles at her, even as she shakes her head.  

“I don't think that's such a good idea, Rajan, especially after this.” Kala gestures at the flowers, tries to focus as she wills her body to calm down. “People will talk.”

“They're already talking; let them talk.” He shrugs dismissively. “I tried to apologize to you yesterday and it made things worse. I want to try again. I know I behaved like an ass.”

Kala looks at him in surprise.  He never swears around her, and it is so incongruous that she's momentarily speechless. 

“Please, Kala.”  He smiles again, wags his eyebrows in a funny gesture that has her smiling back. 

She agrees reluctantly. 

They go to the Italian restaurant they used to frequent for lunch.  There is embarrassment when the host welcomes them profusely and asks how married life is treating them. 

“We're not married; we're not getting married,” Kala says, and she's surprised at how firm her voice is when she can see that Rajan is momentarily taken aback, and that his expression, for the merest moment, is raw. 

They're seated at their regular booth and order the same dishes they used to order and for a while, they ignore the awkwardness. But after their food arrives and they eat a little, Rajan sighs and puts his fork down, leaning into the table, towards her.

“I wish you happiness, Kala,” he says earnestly. “The words I said yesterday were said in anger. I don't want you to think poorly of me.”

She looks at him directly, trying to gauge his sincerity, and it's sad when there was a time when she never would have questioned him. But she does now.  “I wish you happiness as well,” she says, “that's why I had to end our engagement,  Rajan.  But you must know how shocked I am by what you said. And how hurt.”

He makes a gesture with his hands, as if trying to draw words from thin air.  “Yes,” he agrees. “Not my proudest moment. But I am truly sorry. And we needn't discuss it again if you tell me that he's worthy of you.”

Kala looks at him with a faint smile. “He is,” she says quietly. “I love him.” She is reminded of that day in the garden, when she broke her engagement with Rajan and she'd first admitted that there was someone else. Rajan had been very upset, had asked questions then, but was too distraught to really hear her answers.  

Rajan bobs his head now, absorbing her statement.  He picks up his fork and they resume their meal. They talk about her family and his; his father is fully recovered, her father's restaurant is doing well. They talk about work, and he asks her about her project. “The one that you are doing on your own,” he clarifies.  “Sareen tells me you've been working on something very dedicatedly.”

“Yes.” Kala tells him what she'd told her supervisor: An idea had come to her for a new drug to address delusions caused by certain psychosis. “I know that's a small section of R&D that you want to develop.” 

Rajan nods. “Psychotropic meds are of some interest, even if my father doesn't agree.”

They speak for a few more minutes before deciding they are through with lunch and need to return. 

…

When she comes home, she finds that the flowers that had mysteriously disappeared from her office after lunch are in her bedroom, having been delivered there earlier. Daya is enthralled and tells Kala that she made a terrible mistake.  Dinner is a lovely discussion on the merits of Rajan, which now also include “undying love despite everything”. 

Her father wants to know when she'll introduce her new friend to them. Kala tells him she doesn't know because he's not from Mumbai. He's from Berlin; he's German. 

Three pairs of eyes train on her and her mother visibly pales, even as Daya asks “Weren't you just in Germany?”

Nothing more is said after that. 

After dinner, Kala approaches her father, but he waves her away. “I need to think first before we speak,” he says, and she's sorry she's upset him,  but relieved that he knows. Her mother, of course,  will speak with her when her father is ready. 

Kala retires to her room, dresses in her pajamas, and goes to the bathroom she shares with Daya to brush her teeth. When she returns, Wolfgang is there, pivoting on his heel, arms crossed.

“What the fuck is with all these flowers?” he asks.  His voice is even, but he is disturbed by the display and even a little angry, although it is not directed at her.  

Kala takes a moment to feel out his emotions, and her eyebrows lift in surprise. “Wolfgang, are you jealous?” she asks, and for the first time all day she feels a laugh at the back of her throat.  

He looks at her blankly, as if the word has never occurred to him. “These are from Rajan,” he says. “You almost married him.”

“You _wanted_  me to marry him, _mera Jaan_ ,” she reminds him. She approaches him and finds that he is back in his bedroom in Germany.  It is still light outside. “You are back already. Did you give the documents to your cousin?”

Wolfgang nods. “I've just come back from his hotel. For now, they're done with me.”

She nods. There is no word yet from Sun, or she would have known. “So now what will you do?” 

He frowns slightly. “My mother's sister is here tomorrow. Viktor wants me to come with him to meet her. I want to meet her.”

“Is that why you are with me early? To tell me?” Kala smiles gently at him, reaches over to unfold his arms and wind them around her. He pulls her closer and they are in Mumbai again, surrounded by flowers. 

“No, _Schatz_.” He looks down at her and his eyes are grave. “I came because you needed me.”

“Oh.” Kala feels foolish. If she thought she could lie to him, she would. “My family want to meet you.”  

Wolfgang is very still. “Is that all?” 

She nods, embarrassed to admit the whole of it when she's a grown woman. 

Wolfgang finally smiles at her, relaxes his embrace. “I told you I'd come back once I finished the job,” he says. “They can meet me soon.” He looks around her room and frowns. “So can Rajan.”

Kala shakes her head, unsure whether she should be amused or alarmed. “He knows about you too,” she says. “He knows I love you.” Wolfgang looks surprised, but says nothing.  Instead he finally bends his head down to kiss her breathless, only lifting his head to murmur how much he loves her. 

They end up back in his spartan bedroom, away from the flowers, to finally finish what he'd started that afternoon; to have their own reunion. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates are a bit more sporadic this time of the year. As always, thanks for reading! Comments are much appreciated.


	13. Ghosts

Wolfgang looks over at the man whom he thinks of as his handler as they wait in the sitting area of Viktor's penthouse suite. The Russian's name is Yeruslan, and something about that name nags at Wolfgang's subconscious, but he can't quite put his finger on it. Yeruslan is known as "the Tatar", and the nickname suits him.

"You're not still in Germany because of me?" he asks, curious, but not alarmed. They'd taken the same flight out of Amsterdam and gone straight to Viktor's hotel to drop off the documents, but Wolfgang took a taxi back to his flat and Yeruslan stayed. It was Yeruslan that picked him up earlier today. 

The Tatar shrugs. "If Viktor needs it," he says noncommittally. They speak to each other in Russian with an easy camaraderie at odds with their relationship.

"You've worked long for my cousin?" It feels strange to refer to Viktor as such but Wolfgang does so deliberately, testing the waters.

The Tatar nods. His head tilts back. "And your _Tyotya_ ," he adds, amused.

If he'd intend to startle Wolfgang, he did so, but Wolfgang merely bobs his head, as if of course it's understood that the large Russian had worked for his aunt, too.

Viktor emerges from the bedroom neatly groomed in expensive clothes that suit his athletic frame and make him look like a footballer on holiday. He eyes Wolfgang's less tailored clothing - black jeans and a button-down shirt that could use ironing - with raised brows. " _Dermo_ , Wolfgang. I put the other half of your payment into the account yesterday and you couldn't get a better outfit? The Tatar is better dressed." Yeruslan is dressed in a suit worth more than anything Wolfgang owns.

Wolfgang smirks up at his cousin, unoffended. "She's not _my_  mother," he responds. Viktor merely frowns back.

The Tatar drives them to Tegal, where they wait in silence in a rented Mercedes with a special parking permit. Wolfgang doesn't raise the subject of the documents and Viktor doesn't have much to say. The job was done, and they tacitly agree not to discuss it. At least for now.

They both spot her at the same time: a petite, well-dressed blonde woman with an airport employee pushing a cart carrying her luggage. She looks like Viktor, maybe a little like him, even, and Wolfgang is surprised that he remembers her, can recall sitting in the kitchen being given sweets while she visits with his mother. _Tyotya Anna_.

Viktor steps out of the passenger side and opens the door to the back seat while the Tatar loads her luggage into the trunk. She greets the Tatar with a hug and kisses Viktor, tells him her flight from Zagreb was uneventful, before getting into the Mercedes.

"Mama, Wolfgang."

She sits next to Wolfgang and they both stare at each other for a moment before she reaches over to cup his face, kiss him on both cheeks.

"You look like your mother," she says, and her blue eyes are misty. "Not at all like-," she waves her hand in a dismissive gesture.

"Tyotya Anna," he says. She looks ridiculously young, although he knows she must be in her mid-50s. She is very pretty: Her short, fashionably cut hair is a golden blonde, and her eyes are a vivid blue- like his mother's had been. She was the elder, and he remembers when his family was living in what was still, to all intents and purposes, the  _Deutsch Demokratische Republik,_ notwithstanding reunification. She would go to his parents' flat while his father was away. She showered them both -her sister and her nephew- with concern and affection. She spoke Russian to Wolfgang, something Anton never did because he'd been so intent on being German that he'd even named his German-born son the most German name he could think of. Sergei was not as obsessive; besides, Russian was for work.

And Wolfgang remembers why the Tatar's name is so familiar: She told him stories. Sometimes, while his mother would disappear into her room (and he is startled because he'd forgotten she ever did that), Tyotya Anna would enthrall him with sappy folk stories about the noble Russian knights, the _bogatyr_ : Ilya and Yeruslan.

The memories come in a rush.

She smiles at him, immensely pleased. "You remember me?"

He nods. He's not sure what more to say; he's not sure he wants to remember.

She kisses him again on one cheek and looks like she is about to cry but doesn't. She takes his hand and holds it while the Tatar climbs back into the car to drive them to a restaurant where Viktor has made lunch reservations.

Wolfgang sits still and says nothing.

…

"What happened?" Felix sits up from the big leather chair, his feet propped on an ottoman, where he'd been watching yet another cop show.

Wolfgang looks over at him but doesn't really see Felix; he'd been thinking about Kala all afternoon, so he's not surprised that she's standing by the sofa, concerned for him. He's worried about her, too: She is upset by her family again, but he couldn't visit while he was talking to Viktor, and then the long lunch with his aunt. . .

"I recognized her; I remember her. She says I look like my mother." Wolfgang makes his way to the sofa and sits down; Kala joins him, settles beside him with her head tucked into his shoulder, his arm curving around her back, though it merely looks to Felix as if his arm is stretched out. "She says she tried to take me, after my mother died, but my father moved suddenly to Berlin, under Grandfather Hassan's protection, and she couldn't then. My mother's family blamed him for what happened to her; I'm sure my father knew they were going to kill him if he'd stayed." Kala stiffens against him, turns her face into his shoulder, and starts to cry. "They thought he would leave me with them. I don't know why he didn't just leave me."

But really, Wolfgang thinks he does.

Felix is silent. Felix thinks he knows why, too.

If he notices that Wolfgang's outstretched arm is moving in absent circles, Felix doesn't comment on it. He gets up with his cane, goes to the kitchen and pulls out several bottles of beer from the refrigerator, tucking them under one arm while he holds his wolf's head cane with the other hand. He settles the bottles on the coffee table and gives one to Wolfgang before he returns to his chair.

Wolfgang had always believed Tyotya Anna lived near his family, but in fact, she lived in Kiev with her husband and Viktor, their only child. That was why Wolfgang never knew he had a cousin: She never brought Viktor to visit, since she had only obtained a visa for herself. And really, why expose her son to such a toxic household?

She flew as often as she could to visit her sister, suspected beatings, although Wolfgang's mother never admitted as much; tried to convince her to leave her husband. Anton had forbidden phone calls.

Kala is sobbing deeply. She wraps her arm around Wolfgang as if to protect him from everything that he is feeling, from memories of his mother and his aunt that are bittersweet. Tyotya Anna never knew the full extent of Anton's brutality; Wolfgang is sure of this.  She never knew of his abuse of not only her sister, but her nephew.

Wolfgang didn't bother disclosing it during lunch.

It had otherwise been a pleasant lunch.

He drinks his beer, feeling Kala's grief wash over him.

" _Mein Herz_ , we can't change our past," he tells her gently.

Felix looks up from the show he's no longer truly watching. "What did you say?"

Wolfgang doesn't care what it looks like or what Felix thinks. He puts his beer down and picks Kala up in his arms.

"Wolfie." Felix looks at him in concern, watches a pantomime of Wolfgang carrying something to his bedroom. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I'll tell you later," he says.

…

It takes Kala several minutes to compose herself. Any sadness, any hurt she feels from her talk with her parents are nothing compared to Wolfgang's pain. She drowns in it.

He holds her sitting up in bed, curled against him, crying because he can't. He kisses her forehead and strokes her arm, comforts her, sorry that he's exposed so much.

But it's cathartic, and selfishly, he feels better because of it; as if she is the key that helps him let it go. He murmurs his love, even as he hears her father knocking on her bedroom door in Mumbai.

When Felix knocks on his door, Kala is gone.

Wolfgang tells him to come in, sit down.

And he tells Felix how he really met Kala.

…

Sun notices it first because it's the most obvious: The appearance and disappearance of general ledger accounts from one period to the next, the money relatively de minimis in the hundred thousands, compared to the millions on the ledgers elsewhere. She follows the notations made in Russian and she recognizes certain dates, flips back to her notes but hadn't thought to make any on the pages marked "By Product". So she waits until she has an opportunity to visit, and since she is no longer in solitary, that is not until lights are out for the night and everyone is asleep.

She finds Wolfgang in his room, sitting up in bed. _Felix,_ she thinks, sits next to him, drinking a beer. Wolfgang has just finished explaining Kala, the Cluster, to Felix. Felix looks both baffled and alarmed.

"Here's another one of my Cluster," says Wolfgang, nodding in her direction. "Sun."

"Is that the hacker?" asks Felix. "Where is she?"

"Sun's the fighter," says Wolfgang, smiling slightly at her. She's pleased to be described that way, smiles back.

"You've told him," she says.

"He thinks I'm crazy."

Felix demands to know where she's at; what she's saying.

Sun speaks over Felix's questions: "I need to see the pictures of the files again."

Wolfgang gets up and retrieves Felix's old cell phone from the charger on his dresser. He unlocks it and puts it at the foot of the bed, beside Felix, even as Sun frowns her disapproval at being made into a parlor trick. She moves to sit by the phone.

Felix watches in fascinated horror as the screen flickers and settles on the pictures Wolfgang had taken, the images manipulated, scrolled through, by an invisible hand. " _Fuck_!"

The images pause as Sun finds what she's looking for and makes notes in the darkness of her cell in Korea.

She is still going through images when Wolfgang's smartphone buzzes on the table by his bed. He doesn't recognize the number, but only the Russians know it, so he reaches over, answers warily.

"Wolfgang," says his aunt. "I had to call you right away. Viktor tells me there's a woman." Wolfgang tenses, immediately on guard. Felix stops yammering excitedly, not so drunk that he doesn't notice Wolfgang's reaction to the call. "You have a woman in Mumbai. Is that right?"

Wolfgang hesitates before answering. "Yes."

"Wolfgang, tell me the truth," she says, and she pauses delicately. "How did you meet her, so far away? Until just a week ago or so, you've never left Europe; and until she visited you here, Viktor says she's never left India. Did you have visions? Because your mother ...Your mother had visions. "

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to KinoGlowWorm for your insight.
> 
> Thank you for reading. As always, comments are much appreciated!


	14. Connections

“ _U_   _tvoyei_   _materi_   _byli_ _videniya_.” Your mother had visions.

The words hang heavy in the air, and Wolfgang's heart pounds, his mind stumbling at this information.  

“We can't trust her.”  Sun looks up from the smartphone, alert, feeling Wolfgang's confusion. “These records that I'm looking at, with notations your uncle made…They are related to specific drugs that impact us. What if she's connected to BPO? Tell her nothing.”

“Wolfgang?” Tyotya Anna is talking to him softly on the phone. “Listen to me. If you have these visions too, then you must tell me. I couldn't help your mother, but I can help you. And I can help your woman.” Her voice cracks a little. “ _Davay_   _ya_   _tebe_   _pomogu_.” Let me help you.

Sun frowns, body tensing; Wolfgang feels her disapproval. He wonders briefly if she can forcibly remove him from his own body; lets his displeasure at the prospect roll through him.

“Is that Viktor?” Felix asks. “What's wrong?” Felix, of course, neither speaks nor understands Russian. 

Wolfgang shakes his head dismissively, turns his attention back to the phone. 

“I don't know what you're talking about; I'm not sure I understand why you need to help me.”  Wolfgang's voice is surprisingly even. “My mother  never had visions. I'd remember that.”  It's the truth. 

Tyotya Anna sighs on the other end of the line,pauses. “She had visions of being in places, being certain people, not long before she died. I didn't understand at first, and your father…,” Tyotya Anna lets out a short huff, sighs again. “Wolfgang, will you meet with me tomorrow? We shouldn't discuss this by phone.”

Wolfgang pauses. He had intended to buy his airline tickets now. Immediately. He and Felix are going to Mumbai as soon as possible.

“Why don't you tell me now?” he asks, his tone clipped.

He can almost feel her shake her head. “Viktor and I are meeting some people later today. This...what I have to tell you...can't be attended to in the few minutes I have left before then.” Her voice grows soft. “ _Pozhaluysta_.” Please.

Wolfgang looks at Sun. “It will buy us some time to decide,” she says, shoulders relaxing.

“Ok,” he tells his aunt. Wolfgang agrees to meet her for breakfast tomorrow at the hotel where she is staying; she doesn't care to stay with Viktor: “Too much business.”

“What do you think?”

Wolfgang returns the smartphone to the nightstand and looks up at Nomi, standing next to Sun. He gives a sigh, rubs his eyes. “I don't know what to think,” he mutters. He looks over at Felix, waves toward the foot of the bed: “The American hacker is here.”

“ _Scheisse._ ” Felix looks over in Nomi's general direction, wide-eyed, and leans in to Wolfgang: “Is Sun still here too?” When Wolfgang nods, he shakes his head, mumbles that the room feels crowded. Felix sighs and slides his legs from the bed, apologizing to Sun in the process, and excuses himself, deciding he'll leave Wolfie to do whatever it is he does. Felix needs another beer.

Nomi shakes her head. “Fuck. What if your mother was like-” She gestures at the three of them, runs her hands through her hair.  She looks at Sun. “You think his aunt is connected to BPO?”

Sun turns her attention back to the pictures on the phone.”I'm not sure, but I know that the deposits into these accounts-” Sun flips to a sample ledger in the pictures, “occur on the same day that DMT is delivered.” She flips through the photos until she finds the corresponding entry under “By Product”.  “These were all noted by Sergei, and in Russian. So why give it to the Frenchman? And who wants these records back so discreetly that they're willing to pay?” Sun looks back at Wolfgang, as if trying to impart the gravity of her words to a willful boy. “If she knows about you, if she works for BPO…”

“But Viktor has known about Kala, and he's had ample opportunity since Amsterdam to get Wolfgang if he suspects he's one of us.” Nomi frowns, looks over at Wolfgang. “Viktor's people discovered the hack into his email not long ago and there's a new firewall up. What are the chances you can't just ask him who these papers are for?”

Wolfgang looks keenly at her. “He might just tell me, now that it's done.” 

“For now.”

“Yes. For now.”

Nomi turns her attention back to Sun, asks if there is anything more to the financial statements.

“These ledgers by themselves don't tell me much,” she says, “but now that I can see a connection with the shipments, maybe I can look in a different direction. There's not much here; it shouldn't take me long.” She turns back to Wolfgang. “We'll have a better idea before your breakfast.  But if I find anything questionable, say nothing to your aunt.” 

Wolfgang nods.

…

Kala doesn't permit him to visit her until just around dinner time, after he and Felix make plans to go out and celebrate Wolfgang's triumphant return. 

He has not been able to reach her until then. It is the first time that she has ever blocked him, even after he killed Sergei. 

He finds her after 10 in the evening in Mumbai, and she is inexplicably alone in the house and in the shower. She is thinking of him and trying not to, and he is drawn to her as surely as a moth to a flame.

He sees her silhouette on the curtain: head tilted up, hair sluiced from the warm water, trailing down her spine and reaching just above the dimpled curve of her lower back. He is well acquainted with that part of her anatomy - really, what isn't he well acquainted with, by now? - and he stands in the steamy bathroom for several seconds, admiring his view, before he feels a wave of sadness course through her, and he steps forward, reaches for her through the white gauzy curtain. 

“ _Schatzi._ ” 

Kala isn't surprised by his appearance. She turns her head and reaches for the edge of the curtain, blinks a little owlishly when she pokes her head out and sees him. She catches her lower lip with her teeth, smiles at him. “Wolfgang.”

Wolfgang smiles back, kisses the tip of her nose, lowers his mouth to catch her lip and gently coax it free. Kala smiles into his kiss.

“Where is everyone?” he asks. It is eerily quiet in the family quarters, and too early for everyone to be abed.

“At a party.” Kala doesn't look up at him right away, but when she does, his breath catches in his throat at her soulful dark eyes. “It's Auntie’s birthday.” 

“Ah… why aren't you with them?”

“Headache.”

He kisses her again, aware that there's so much more, but reluctant to invade her mind. There's a sadness still about her, and he hopes it's not from his own memories. 

Kala pulls back a little. “Let me get out.”

“Let me come in.”

She laughs, and the sound is glorious to his ears.  He grins at her; she looks less troubled. 

Before she can form a reply, Wolfgang steps into the shower, fully clothed, and gathers her into his arms. She gives a squeal of surprise and laughs harder against his mouth, even as he dips his head to kiss her deeper, until she stops laughing and finally whispers his name on a moan. 

In Mumbai, his back is soaking wet, the water is warmer than he's used to and it steams around them as he presses against Kala. He grows damp in front, wherever his body touches hers, and he can feel every curve, every line of her, grinds a little closer as he feels her mental wall slipping, surrendering to him.

He pulls back abruptly.  “ _Schatz_.”

She reaches past him, turns the shower off, lets herself be held against him as he strokes her wet hair. “I'm alright, Wolfgang.” 

There is something deeply wrong, and she won't tell him. He knows he of all people should leave her in peace until she is ready to say, if she chooses; god knows he has demons he's yet to reveal to her. But he can't let her be. There's a purpose to his life in making her happy, in hearing her laugh and seeing her smile. She'd slipped enough to let him see that what troubles her isn't residual emotion from his childhood. It's her own unhappiness, and it hurts him, as well. 

“I didn't mean to call you,” she says. “You have your own worries.”

Wolfgang presses a kiss to her head. “ _Ich bin_   _immer_   _für_   _dich_   _da_.”  I'm always here for you.

She smiles up at him, draws herself up to kiss him. 

They're in his bedroom, where he's completely dry, and she's still a little wet, and Kala thinks there's something exciting about being completely nude while he holds her fully clothed. It's funny because she thinks it's usually the other way around, and she gives a little laugh as she thinks this. 

“Wolfgang, the fuck, are you ready yet?”

Felix normally wouldn't bother knocking, but after this afternoon's disclosures, he has no desire to walk in on his best friend doing god knows what with imaginary people. Especially his girlfriend. 

“You're going out with Felix?” Kala sounds wistful.

“Yeah.” Wolfgang raises his head. “Dinner. Karaoke.” He smiles. “Join us.”

She smiles back but shakes her head. “Headache.”

Felix knocks again and Wolfgang tells him to go away for a few minutes. 

“You should get going,” says Kala, pulling away. 

“ _Schatz,_  I have you completely naked in my bedroom and I'm not wasting the opportunity.”

“No?” 

“No.”

He picks her up abruptly to carry her the few steps to his bed, sits her on the edge, kneels as he reaches to kiss her.  Kala's hands flutter for his shirt hem, but he stops her with one hand, the other gently splaying her legs apart, stroking up an inner thigh. Her breath hitches in her throat and he watches as her eyes grow heavy with need when his hand courses up to tease her, fingers making long, lazy strokes along her entrance before finally settling on the spot that makes her crazy.  She gives a low moan as he pushes her gently back onto the bed, takes in her beauty: not just the obvious physical beauty, but how luminous she truly is in spirit - and he thinks he's the fucking luckiest man in the world and that she is right: Their connection is a miracle. 

He dips his head to follow where his hand had been.

…

He'd forgotten to mention the call from his aunt; that he'd be in Germany for probably a few more days before he goes back to Mumbai: He'd been too intent on banishing the sadness from Kala's eyes. 

Wolfgang sits at a table in the karaoke bar, drinking a beer while Felix approaches the woman waiting to take her turn to sing. Felix had convinced him that if he's going to meet Kala's family, he can't look like shit in his shitty clothes, so they are going shopping tomorrow to dress him up properly, make him look presentable. Felix, too; in case Kala has hot friends.  Her sister is apparently too young. 

He laughs a little as the woman argues with Felix, unwilling to give up her turn. He smiles as he watches Felix proceed to hit on her, sees her visibly thaw. 

It will be an early night since he has no intention of having breakfast with Tyotya Anna nursing a hangover.

Wolfgang takes another drink.  He'll tell Kala all about it tonight, when he slips into her bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you to Foulbearhideout and KinoGlowWorm. You guys are awesome. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! And as always, comments are much appreciated:-)


	15. More Worries

Her father's knock on her bedroom door breaks the connection. Until then, she'd been sitting on Wolfgang's bed, weeping for a past she can't change; mourning the pain of a little boy who'd grown up to believe himself a monster.

Kala sits up in bed, wipes the tears she'd shed from her face before she lets her father in. He avoids looking directly at her, thinking her tears are because of the angry exchange they had earlier that morning. It is the first argument they have ever had, the first crack in a bond that has not once shown fissure, and the disappointment of it is evident on Sanyam Dandekar's face.

"Rajan's mother is here to see you," he says, his voice tight, angry. She thinks there's also a remorseful tone, but his expression is impassive.

Kala is surprised but gets up and makes herself presentable. She follows her father to the sitting room where Sahana Rasal is talking with Kala's mother Priya. At Kala's entrance, Priya excuses herself to give them privacy; she says goodbye to Sahana and gives her regards to Manendra and Rajan. Kala is left alone with Sahana.

Mrs. Rasal greets her with a hug, tells her she will always be grateful for her support and prayers while Rajan's father was in the hospital. But Mrs. Rasal is there now to see if there is anything she can say to convince Kala to rethink the broken engagement.

"If you were worried about Manendra," she says gently, "let me assure you that he has changed his mind wholeheartedly, and would be so pleased to have you as our daughter. You have been so kind to us, and we can't help but see how unhappy Rajan is. If this is because of us, please, please reconsider. Rajan loves you very much, and we have come to, as well."

Kala's heart clenches. She shakes her head, sorrier than she's been in a long time, tells her that it was nothing to do with them; that she was wrong to have even accepted the engagement because she is not in love with Rajan.

"He deserves someone who will love him with all her heart," she says. It is almost rote; she has repeated this too many times.

"But it is _you_  that he wants. That was never more clear to us than these last few days. It hasn't gotten better over time, as we thought it would. It is worse. It is why I'm here. If you care for him, you know he will make a fine husband for you. Love will come later. I know this. He loves enough for you both."

Kala feels guilty; it's evident Rajan has not mentioned that she is already in love with another man. She thinks of how she felt back when Wolfgang wouldn't see her; how sick with heartache she had been, and she feels more than guilty. But she stays firm, concentrates on blocking Wolfgang, who she can feel at the edge of her consciousness, pulled by her distress. She doesn't want him to witness the strife their relationship causes.

In the end, Mrs. Rasal leaves without the outcome she had hoped. She kisses Kala's cheek and thanks her again, but Kala knows she's disappointed.

Kala makes her way back to her bedroom, passing by her father and her sister, waiting for her mother to finish getting dressed; they are on their way to Auntie's birthday celebration. Kala has a pounding headache and no desire to attend. Her mother will make her excuses.

Kala waits for them to leave before making her way to the kitchen. She forages for some food and brings a plate of reheated Masala Dosa to eat. Upstairs it is eerily quiet with the family gone. She searches the threads of her consciousness in the Cluster for Sun, but shies away when she feels Wolfgang's presence, as well; she's too raw to discuss this with Wolfgang.

Instead, she finds Capheus.

"You said you'd never watch another one of my movies with me ever again."

Kala smiles a little and sits next to Capheus on the old sofa. It's Saturday evening and he's watching a Van Damme movie - " _Time Cop_ ", Capheus whispers - waiting for dinner before he meets up with Jela. Capheus' mother Shiro is humming and busy in the kitchen, stirring something in a pot that smells delicious. It smells better than a reheated plate of Masala Dosa resting on Kala's lap.

"I'm so sorry to bother you when it's been so long." Since reconciling with Wolfgang, Kala rarely visits him anymore: a few times to check on Shiro's health (although Mr. Kabaka supplies her with clean meds and it's not necessary), and once or twice just to experience the bus ride around Nairobi, when things are a little quiet in the morning at the lab. But like Sun, Capheus is neither hurt nor offended.

He chuckles, puts an arm around her and gives a gentle hug. "Don't be silly, Kala. You are always welcome. 'Separation need not destroy friendships'," he tells her. "' _Kufarakana hakuvunji kujuana_.' Old proverb." Kala smiles.

"Thank you. I needed to see a friendly face," she says settling into the sofa.

"And where are you that it is unfriendly?"

He looks around, and they are in her bedroom in Mumbai, where sounds from the restaurant drift through her window. He turns his head to look at her quizzically; she looks back down at her plate and picks at the potatoes. "Why are you so unhappy? I can feel it." He waits a moment, before shaking his head. It is nothing to do with Wolfgang, or he'd feel that, too. But when he searches, he knows Wolfgang is not unhappy, as Kala is, although there is a kind of excitement and wariness about him that has drawn one of the Cluster to him. He is surprised Kala is not there as well.

He is more surprised Wolfgang is not with Kala.

"It is all very silly, really," she says, her brows knitting, and she suddenly comes to a stop, acutely embarrassed to confess her woes. It didn't seem so difficult with Sun.

He nods his head, but his eyes mirror his confusion. "If it is silly, why do you waste time being unhappy?"

Kala's mouth quirks into a wry smile. They are back in Capheus' home, where Shiro is now singing and the air feels much lighter than in the brightly colored space in Mumbai.

"I've made my father unhappy. We quarrelled over a silly thing, and it makes both of my parents unhappy, but most of all my father."

She finds it easier to share her memory than to articulate the events of the morning: to let him see how she fought with her parents about Wolfgang without having to describe it.

Her father asked to speak with her right before breakfast. Her mother was already in the parlor, waiting for her.

They resumed the aborted discussion of last night's dinner: Kala admitted flying to Germany to visit her "friend," admitted he is partly why she broke off the engagement to Rajan, although she argued she never loved Rajan and should not have agreed to marry him at all. Her father asked if she and her friend had been "like man and wife", and the euphemism made her blush, but she nodded and told the truth about that, too.

Capheus sees Sanyam's face pinch with anger and hurt; hears him ask Kala if she is decided on a Gandharva marriage with "that man". It is one of eight ways marriages are recognized, and it requires no service or parental blessing.

Kala's father grows angrier to learn marriage was never discussed: He accuses her of dishonorable behavior, throwing away a good future with Rajan on a whim without even the promise of marriage. He lectures about the fickleness of men, particularly European men, but in the same breath insists she bring up marriage to the German.

Kala of course refuses to do so. She is hurt that her father thinks she acts without any consideration for Rajan's feelings, and angry that the solution to her indiscretion - as if there is really a problem to begin with - is marrying her off. As if she has no value outside of being someone's wife.

If her father is disappointed in her, she is just as disappointed in him. And she tells him so.

For someone who has never once done anything to disobey her parents, whose biggest concern until becoming part of the Cluster is that she not let her family down, she finds a fire in herself that she didn't know exists: Maybe it has always existed. Maybe it is because she is no longer just a "me".

"Of course you've always had it in you," says Capheus. "Who better to fight for you than you?"

Kala smiles back. She admires Capheus's bravery, his unequivocal sense of right and wrong; he is unafraid to stand up for what he believes in. She drew on his strength of conviction many times in the past. She does so now again.

"They are so very angry with me," Kala shakes her head, eyes ringed with frustration. "I was joking when I told my father I thought they were more pleased by my engagement to Rajan than my graduation from University, but I was more correct than I realized. And tonight Rajan's mother came to see me to ask if I will reconsider." She tilts her head back to touch the sofa. "My father was not as upset as my mother when I ended the engagement, but I think he now believes it would have been better for everyone if I'd just gotten married."

Capheus nods. "Better for everyone but you."

And Kala watches in surprise as a tear lands on top of the dosa. Capheus places a comforting arm around her shoulder, draws her closer. "You know that they love you, and that makes doing what is right for yourself that much harder. But you know in the end that they only wish you happiness, and they will come around. You must have faith."

"Yes." Kala smiles a little at that reminder.

"My Zebra." Shiro stands next to Capheus, looking quizzically at the empty space beside him that his arm is around. "Is one of your herd visiting with us today?"

Capheus smiles up at her, glad she doesn't question how his Cluster came to be, but merely accepts it as another of life's mysteries. "Yes, Mother, and she tells me your stew smells wonderful." Shiro laughs, says she wishes whoever it is will visit in person one day and she can serve it to her. "But dinner is ready so you can eat before Jela comes. Our guest is welcome to stay. Is it Sun?"

"Kala."

Shiro nods and looks in Kala's direction. "I know you can taste things through each other, but let me tell you that my stew is even better in person."

Kala laughs, dabbing away her tears. She thinks Shiro is as amazing as her son, and thanks her.

Kala stays for a few more minutes, until Jela arrives. It helps her keep Wolfgang out for a little longer, until she can hide what troubles her.

...

She falls asleep for a short while and wakes up disoriented because it is just a little after ten. Her family is still not home, and she doesn't think they'll be back for several more hours. She feels groggy and sticky and makes her way to the shower. She lets the water grow hot and steamy before she gets inside, and when she does, she stands under the water, letting it wash over her, her mind on a million paths that only lead to one conclusion.

She thinks of her father and his pointed lecture on the kind of man he already perceives her "friend" to be: He actually called Wolfgang a demon, and Kala had to stifle a completely inappropriate bubble of laughter that had crept into her throat.

Kala combs her hair from her face with careful fingers. It is difficult to reconcile her loving and supportive father with the traditional patriarch of the lecture, but in her heart she knows Capheus is correct.

She thinks about moving, getting her own apartment closer to work. It's a little unorthodox, but certainly not unheard of, especially in an urban area, and she can certainly afford to live alone. The idea is exhilarating at first as she imagines setting up her own apartment, just as she had helped Wolfgang set up his. But she thinks about the significance of such a step;that it is a break from her family she had never thought to make, and she feels a wave of sadness.

Kala isn't surprised when Wolfgang finally appears, and she smiles at him, careful to guard her sadness from him. Her heart always skips a little when he's with her, and when he is teasing and playful - stepping into the shower fully clothed to grab her and kiss her - there is nothing she wouldn't do for him.

He senses her unhappiness, but she can't tell him why, so she shores up her defenses even harder and assures him that she's fine.

He knows she's not. And when he sets about to make her happy, she lets him, revelling in his touch, marveling that this man loves her as she loves him.

He kisses her gently, promises to join her when he returns from his night out with Felix, and she is back in Mumbai, lying alone in her own bed. She is loose and sated and permits herself a moment of peace.

Then Kala dresses herself and brushes her hair, turns on her laptop, and searches for available apartments by her office.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. As always, comments are much appreciated!


	16. Tyotya Anna

Wolfgang arrives at his aunt's hotel early, parks his car on the street, and redoubles his mental barrier to block Nomi and Sun. They want to be present while he has breakfast with Tyotya Anna, but it is too personal for Wolfgang to share. Even with them. 

He looks out absently at the hotel, takes a careful drag on his cigarette. He would have shared with Kala if she'd asked. If she'd known. He shifts guiltily in his seat.  He'd come back home a little more celebratory than he'd intended; a lot more amorous, not inclined to talk.  She'd been the same. He shakes off the lingering uneasiness he feels about her, despite her assurances; thinks he'll deal with that later.

Wolfgang finishes his cigarette before getting out of the car. He doesn't know what to expect or what to say: Neither Sun nor Nomi definitively connect his aunt or Viktor to BPO, but they're wary.

He walks into the lobby and heads to the bank of elevators. He is meeting Tyotya Anna in her room. She'd left him a voicemail while he was out with Felix; she felt they'd be freer to talk in the privacy of her hotel suite rather than a restaurant. Wolfgang thinks it makes no difference since their conversation would be in Russian anyway. He is naturally suspicious. 

He arrives at her floor and walks down several corridors before arriving at her room. He pauses, listening, just before knocking. 

Tyotya Anna opens the door, smiles warmly at him and ushers him in. She's dressed in a long skirt and sweater, her short hair curling elegantly around her face. She and Viktor have a knack for making Wolfgang feel awkward and ill-dressed. 

Wolfgang enters and looks around, half expecting the Tatar to pull him aside and pat him down. She seems to be alone. He follows her to a sitting area that overlooks the Brandenburg Gate; a tea set, two pots, are already on a dining table, but nothing else. She tells him to sit; room service is bringing up some fruits and eggs and meats, and she remembers how much he liked berliners, and she has those coming up,too.

She starts to pour him tea but he stops her, asks for coffee, black.

She frowns but reaches for another pot.

“Viktor said you like your coffee,” she says, a note of disapproval in her voice. She pours him a cup and points him to a seat across from hers, thawing a little when he accepts. “I'm so glad you came, Wolfgang. Thank you.”

He nods but gives her a wry look as he takes a sip from the delicate porcelain. “Did I have a choice?  I want to know about my mother.  I want to know what it is you think I need help for unless it's to do with Viktor. I've told him I'm not interested in the family business.”

She shakes her head, brows creasing, although she waves her hand dismissively. “Viktor is keeping your existence a secret. He promised me before he saw you that he wouldn't force you to work for him after this job. You can disappear somewhere with your Kala. I will make sure of it myself.”

Wolfgang's jaw tightens whenever Kala's name creeps into a conversation with the Russians, even his aunt. She notices and smiles with amused affection. “Viktor also told me that you're besotted. You need to learn to keep your emotions about her more in hand, Wolfgang, or everyone will know how it is with you.” Her smile falters a little as she realizes what she says. She takes a pensive sip of her tea as someone knocks on her door, startling them both; Wolfgang barely prevents himself from reaching for the Sig Sauer he carries behind him. 

Tyotya Anna lets in the room service to set up a feast at the table before leaving. She insists on plating Wolfgang a berliner and sausages and eggs and grapes, just as if he's the child she remembers. He puts the plate down, reconsiders and takes a bite of the blackberry berliner.

She smiles at him, selects a small scone for herself and takes a bite before she sighs. She asks him again if he'd met Kala through a vision, but doesn't wait for him to answer. 

“I'm going to tell you some things about your mother that we tried not to expose you to, but it's important you know. And afterward ... you may tell me how you met Kala.”

…

The visions started after she tried a drug Anton brought home. She'd taken it after he'd left for a trip; on a day Wolfgang was in school and right before Anna arrived.  

She was catatonic when Anna found her. “There was a needle beside her; I don't know why she did it. She’d stopped using years before, after she knew she was pregnant with you.” Anna’s cool blue eyes narrow in memory. She finishes her tea and pours another cup, automatically refills Wolfgang's with coffee. 

When his mother revived, she spoke in a foreign language Anna didn't recognize. “I was so afraid of what she'd done to her head I threatened to take you. She _lived_  for you. She would never do anything to endanger you. Ever.”

His mother swore she never used the drug again, but after that day, she kept seeing things, acting differently. She said she was connected to many others: introduced herself once to Anna as a teacher from Prague, and another time as a soldier from Vancouver. Each time she spoke a foreign language and described things that she couldn't have known. 

She began to communicate with the others. She would disappear into her room when Anna visited; relied on Anna to distract Wolfgang with stories, games, sweets. His mother said something about having to help her clan; that she was part of a larger group, and that when one suffers, they all do. 

“I don't think she was able to hide this from your father. Your mother had a difficult time lying, especially to him.” Wolfgang looks up at that. “I think…,” Anna pauses, choosing her words carefully. “I think they tried to help each other. I think the clan tried to help her; encouraged her to leave with you. I think she stood up to your father and they tried to help her.”  She looks at Wolfgang and her eyes are haunted. “Then she was dead. I don't know what happened to her, Wolfgang. Your father wouldn't let us see the body.”

Anna watches Wolfgang's face - hard, impassive - as she finishes. “I think he couldn't hide what he'd finally done. You know, at her funeral, he looked like he'd taken a beating himself. She'd given him a fight. Someone had given him a fight.”

Wolfgang is silent for a long moment. He doesn't remember much about the day he came home from school and was told his mother was dead.  One week later he was in Berlin: the western side, meeting Felix in detention.

“Why is it you think you need to help me? That I need help?” he asks roughly. 

Tyotya Anna leans forward. “Because she was an experiment, your mother. Anton gave her a drug that awoke something in her. It does that for only some people; permits them to communicate with others like them, in their clan. But once the people responsible for these drugs know it affects you like that, they look for you. They hunt you. They did that to someone in her clan, and your mother- she was in agony. She cried for days. Do you remember that? Do you remember when I came and your father was there?”

Wolfgang remembers. He remembers because it was the only time Tyotya Anna was ever there at the same time as his father. He remembers because he realized then that his father hated Tyotya Anna, but he was afraid of her because her husband had just aligned himself to a powerful _vor_ , and her father’s connections - Anton's father in law - were expanding outside of St. Petersburg. But they hadn't reached Germany. Yet.

“When a member of her clan suffered, they all suffered. Your mother asked me to help her and her clan. I'm not sure I understood how, until it was too late for her: Anton was already there.” She rubs her temple, smiles without any humor. “If you are like her, the hunters will find you. They spread the drug, DMT, and they know where they spread it; then they send their people to look for the clans. The solution is to cut the connection permanently. If you cut the connection, whatever it is that makes you part of a clan ceases to function, and the hunters can no longer use you.”

“If you cut the connection you'll kill the people.” Wolfgang  doesn't even realize the moment the words leave his mouth. He is strangely calm. “They will feel each loss. It's almost unbearable. _One_ is almost unbearable." Wolfgang doesn't know how to express himself in emotion; how to describe Will's absence as a constant ache that can't be shaken off; like a void that incessantly seeks to be filled but can't.  And Will is alive. 

Tyotya Anna leans back. “So.” She is calm, as well, unsurprised. “You have visions too? You took this drug?”

Wolfgang shakes his head. He tells her about seeing a ghost, a woman who killed herself trying to escape the hunters, trying to protect him and his Cluster. That he started to see them all afterward, including Kala; that they are disconnected from one, who's still alive, and why he's disconnected.

Tyotya Anna nods wearily. “Yes. I remember that some of her clan were ‘born’." She gives a huff. “But the hunters have already found one of your own, then.” At Wolfgang's nod, she shakes her head. “He needs to be given the drug. It will cut him off completely, but he'll still be alive; it will protect you all.”

Riley is there. So is Kala.  Wolfgang frowns at them both. They stand behind Tyotya Anna and look vehemently opposed to her solution. 

“It's too late for us.” Riley shakes her head, voice urgent.  “We all know about BPO, about what they are doing to people like us. Even if you disconnect us, they'll look for us, kill us. Like the others."

Kala presses Riley's point: “It won't stop what they do. They need to be stopped. Not just a single man, but whoever or whatever is behind this.  _They_  need to be stopped. Not us.”

There's an eerie silence that descends after Kala's outburst, when Wolfgang realizes he'd repeated her words, Riley's words. They are both gone.

“Yes.”  Tyotya Anna looks steadily back at him. “I understand. I promised I'd protect you, Wolfgang. I failed you when you needed me most, but I'll protect you. I'll help how I can. I promised myself.” She reaches over and takes his hand.

“I love my son. He'll never hurt me. But you can't wholly trust Viktor.” She rubs Wolfgang's hand a little absently. “He doesn't believe me. He tried that drug - DMT - and it didn't do what I claimed it could. He's amused I think you're like your mother; he thinks she was just delusional. But he wasn't there with her,  and I _know_."

Tyotya Anna doesn't drop her gaze. "He told me yesterday that you probably met Kala on the Internet; nothing mysterious. But just in case... I know he has sent the Tatar back to Mumbai. I don't know why.” She feels Wolfgang's sudden alertness, squeezes his hand reassuringly before he removes it from hers.  "Please. You needn't worry about her. He won't hurt her, and neither will Viktor." She meets his cold stare with concern, willing him to believe her, and he suspects she knows about Steiner and Sergei: that it will be so much worse if anything happens to Kala.

She gives another sigh and leans back a little. "I  learned about your job yesterday." She rubs her temple, takes a careful sip of tea. "Your uncle - Viktor's father - did some work for your Grandfather Hassan. That list you took? It was his.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that filming has started in Berlin for Season 2, we can all look forward to seeing the Cluster again. <3
> 
> Thank you for reading.  
> You KNOW comments are always appreciated. :-)


	17. Trust

Kala is at the temple when she feels the pull of Wolfgang's agitation, can hear bits and pieces of a conversation that unsettles him. Somewhere in their shared consciousness, Kala feels the conflicting ebb and flow of Wolfgang's thoughts as Will's fate is discussed and considered.

That window into Wolfgang's consciousness sends a collective shudder through the rest of the Cluster.

Kala is drawn to Wolfgang to speak for them all. She brings Riley with her. They learn that there's a way to permanently suppress their connection, and they're horrified. Will's absence from the Cluster is barely tolerated: They each reach out to Riley so they can see him, assure themselves that he is still tethered to them. Even Wolfgang visits, when the emptiness is too much. And Will feels the loss: Riley tells them that it gnaws at him, but her presence seems to assuage it, and when the Cluster visit, they sooth him with their presence. Will can feel them, even if he can't see or interact with them. They don't know what they'd do if Riley isn't physically there to connect them all.

A permanent break? Would they all feel that yawning emptiness, only eight times over? How is it possible to live through that kind of pain?

And would that truly stop BPO from hunting them, when the Cluster know the truth about the brutal human experiments?

So Kala and Riley voice their objection, and somehow, Wolfgang repeats their words to his aunt, who listens attentively.

And then Kala is back.

She sits in front of Ganesha, trembling, still holding a fresh offering of steamed modak. She has come here to pray for guidance: Not so much in what she should do, but in how she will tell her family. Kala has already decided what to do.

But now, with Wolfgang's emotions still thrumming through her, Kala sits back on her heels, anxious and concerned for the Cluster's safety. What do any of them know about Wolfgang's family, the documents he brought to Viktor, and whether there is a connection to BPO?

"Did you find anything in those papers?"

Sun is painting outside on a prison wall. Kala is startled to see that the image looks suspiciously like her, even as Sun's paintbrush dips red to form a long skirt: Kala's bridal lehenga.

Sun's expression is intent on the painting. "Yes, it is you," she says, although Kala didn't ask the question aloud. They both remember when Kala found herself no longer in a wedding procession, but walking down a quiet street in Seoul, dog in tow, while Sun was being carried to an elaborate wedding altar in Mumbai. Kala smiles.

Sun leans forward a little as she sweeps the red paint around Kala's head to form the dupatta. "I'm drawing Wolfgang next."

She smirks, side-eyes Kala, who is momentarily startled. Kala sees the smirk and gives a little laugh. "I didn't look," she murmurs defensively. This earns her a scoff of disbelief from Sun. "...for very long," Kala amends, and she finds herself laughing again, blushing. Sun smiles, too, gives a rare chuckle. Sun is painting with her back to the others in the courtyard. They give her a wide berth when she's there, and it affords her the opportunity to speak discreetly to the Cluster when they visit.

"He blocked us out. That's why we made you go to him." Sun resumes her labor, her mood shifting abruptly as she dips the brush for more red paint. "Did you know he was meeting with his aunt today? that Wolfgang's mother may have been like us?"

"No." Kala is stunned he didn't mention something as important as that when he was with her earlier. But her innate sense of fairness concedes that with the both of them in the moods they were in, there was little inclination to talk at all. "How does he know this?"

"His aunt told him yesterday. She said his mother started having visions of others. She asked if that's how he'd met you; if he had visions, too. That's why he is with her. He wanted to learn more about his mother."

"And he told her the truth about us?" Kala frowns, confused. Wolfgang is by nature a taciturn man. She is surprised to think he would disclose the information to his aunt. But given his memories of her and his mother...And his mother was like them? "Was his mother hunted, too? Is that why they were discussing a drug to suppress the psycellium permanently?" Kala thinks back to the chemicals on the list Wolfgang took from the safe in Amsterdam, thinks about ratios and dosages and knows that the combination on the list maybe, quite possibly, can do just that. "And what about the documents from the safe? Is there a connection to BPO?"

Sun shrugs. She tells Kala what she'd told Nomi and Wolfgang earlier: that the notations Sergei made on the financial statements connect deposits to the same day that shipments of DMT arrive at a destination. A smaller shipment of the psychotropic meds - the suppressant - follows about one month later, but those deposits, made days after arrival of the meds, are more difficult to connect. But the notes are fragmented and the financial statements incomplete.

"Wolfgang seems to believe she wants to help." Kala can still feel his emotions of yesterday, after he'd come back from meeting Tyotya Anna for lunch. Her throat constricts. She doesn't want to relive it. "He wouldn't endanger us."

"No." Sun pauses, washing her brush thoughtfully, picking up a finer one and dipping it in yellow. She leans forward again, starts on intricate swirls at the hem of the lehenga. "But just in case, do you have more of the med you gave to Will? You may need to give it to Wolfgang."

…

She makes her offering and apologizes profusely to Ganesha because her mind is elsewhere. She prays for her Cluster, prays for her family. She leaves the temple, distracted, not soothed, but is mindful as she walks down the stairs where she still sees images of Rajan's father falling under the knives of his attackers.

She is startled to see the old man who had accosted her to celebrate Manendra Rasal's stabbing, standing at the bottom of the stairs, staring at her. She has not seen him since that day, when Will had come to her aid. It has been weeks since any of those worshipers have dared return to the temple. The old man doesn't approach her but just watches as she leaves.

"You cannot come here every day at the same time. It isn't safe." Wolfgang walks beside her, startling her with his appearance.

"I hate for them to think they scared me away."

He shakes his head, his voice taut:"You _should_  be scared of them. They almost killed Rajan's father." They are silent for a moment. Kala fights the sudden urge to snap back at him, annoyed and defiant for no logical reason, but annoyed and defiant nonetheless.

Instead, she bites her tongue and fishes inside her purse for an ear bud so she can pretend to be on her phone. "Why are you here? Are you still with your aunt?"

"Yes." He meets her eyes, looks at her hesitantly, guilty, before dropping his gaze. "And I need you with me," he says. He lets out a slight breath, his voice softens. "Please. I need you to listen to her, and tell me...what you think."

Kala nods, and while she is physically walking the 2 kilometers from the temple to her home in Mumbai, she is also back in a hotel suite in Berlin, with Wolfgang.

Tyotya Anna is talking about the chemicals identified in the documents Wolfgang had stolen from the safe in Amsterdam. She tells Wolfgang that as she understands it, use of the suppressant over time will reduce the chemical in the brain that work through the psycellium to connect each member to their "clan".

"Who created it?" Kala asks, and Wolfgang repeats her question without letting on that Kala is there.

Anna pauses. "I don't know."

"She's lying."

Lito stands behind her, wearing only his underwear since it is after 2 am in Mexico City, and he'd been asleep next to Hernando. Kala doesn't even acknowledge that an attractive, half-naked man stands next to her: By now, between time differences and activities, they have all encountered each other in various stages of undress.

Kala looks up at Lito, her brows furrowed. "Are you sure?"

Lito nods. "I know a thing or two about lying," he says. "It's in the way she holds her body. Watch her. She's tense, defensive; you can see it."

"Does it matter?" Anna is asking.

Wolfgang frowns at her. "Yes," he says, and Kala's words fill his mouth: that a solution requires data to work from, and the only people with data are the hunters with BPO. He doesn't add that Kala herself had obtained some usable data from Nomi's hack of Dr. Metzger's computer; enough to understand a little about the psycellium that connects them, about the lack of division in a sensate's brain.

Anna stiffens and fixes Wolfgang with an icy stare: "Are you accusing me of collaborating with a hunter? After what I told you about your mother? Because I am not."

"She seems sincere," Kala says.

Lito nods his head in agreement. "She does." He tilts his head a little. "I believe her."

"If you don't know where it came from, how can you trust that it works? How do you know what it's supposed to do, and doesn't kill anyone?" Wolfgang doesn't raise his voice, but his timbre is off-putting; tense, suspicious, angry.

"It was the best we had," she says, wilting a little. "Wolfgang, I don't know anything about this BPO, but I know they didn't create this drug. That's all I can tell you."

"And the list of products belongs to _Dyadya Sacha -_ Uncle Alexander."

She nods her head, repeats what she'd said earlier, adding other bits of information: DMT was trafficked by the Bogdanows. Whether they did so for BPO or on their own is unclear, but when Hassan learned there was a market to stop its effects, he also trafficked the suppressant, except where _vor_  territories crossed and he had to deal with Viktor's father, Alexander. It was Alexander who compiled the list, supposedly for his own benefit, but it went missing nearly a year ago.

"I don't think Hassan meant for anyone to know about the suppressant. Why else would he care about the list? But then it turned up again after his death, and Sacha learned that Sergei gave it to...someone else."

"A competitor," smirks Wolfgang, recalling Viktor's description. "Another _vor_?" It would explain why there was a need for discretion in removing it from the S &D. Whether it was worth €100,000 is another matter.

She shrugs.

"She knows." Lito is certain. "She's holding back something. Everything else sounds true, sincere. But when she makes these little gestures…" Lito's hand flutters as if to convey his meaning, "she gives herself away." He shakes his head, murmurs to himself that it's so obvious...

"Wolfgang, please." Tyotya Anna turns troubled blue eyes to Wolfgang, but her expression is stern. "I didn't know that cutting off the connection can be harmful. I only thought it would prevent the hunters from finding your clan. Now that I do know, I won't suggest it. But we didn't make the suppressant. And this changes nothing; you still need help."

"How do you propose to do that? You told me Viktor can't be trusted." He has told her more than he'd intended because of the memories she stirs, but he can feel the others' caution, can hear Lito's and Kala's whispered assessments.

Tyotya Anna leans over and holds his hand. "Wolfgang, we take care of our own," she says, and her eyes are hard, and it's not difficult to imagine that she is from a family of _Bratva_. "I will deal with Viktor, and we'll find a way to deal with the hunters. I won't lose you again."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little later than usual, but here it is.  
> As always, comments are much appreciated!


	18. Shadows

It is Lito's professional opinion - and Kala's observation - that Tyotya Anna is sincere in wishing to help, but not completely forthcoming with what she knows. Lito sees it in Anna’s body language: She is fidgety and anxious at some moments, when she's less than fully honest, and deadly still in others, when she practically radiates earnest sincerity. Kala comments that she seems to know quite a bit about the use and effect of the suppressant - that it reduces, possibly eliminates, the chemical in the brain that triggers the connection through the psycellium - for someone who just pedals a “solution”.

Wolfgang is inclined to agree with their assessment.

The question, then, is where Anna's loyalties ultimately lie. 

Wolfgang leaves his aunt's hotel suite, makes his way outside to his car. He is pensive and broods a little as he gets in, thinking back to yesterday's lunch, this morning's breakfast. _Scheisse_ _._

He has a smoke before he drives off, but neither that nor the quiet drive calm him. 

“I want to trust her,” he says, frowning. 

He walks down a quiet street - at least, by Mumbai standards - with Kala, who is walking slowly home from the temple. She is not too far from her destination, and still wears an earpiece, pretending to be on the phone. 

She nods her head. “I know.”

They walk in silence for almost a full minute before Wolfgang reaches out to lace his fingers with hers. Kala smiles a little wistfully. The gesture reminds her of Berlin. 

“I didn't mean not to tell you about my mother,” he says, by way of apology. He gives a faint smirk. “She was not on my mind when I came to your bed.”  He brings entwined hands to his lips and kisses her fingers. 

“I know,” she says again, a little flustered at the immediate reaction of her body. She looks down as she speaks, thoughtful. “It makes me wonder if our ability to connect is hereditary.” She catches her lower lip in an absentminded way that he recognizes. It always makes him want to coax that lip free with his teeth. “Although Riley had a vision of Angelica before she took the DMT.” Kala ruminates on the point for a moment longer, glances at him with troubled eyes. “Do you wonder,” she asks, her voice a little throaty, “how her death was felt by her cluster?” And he knows then she is no longer thinking of Riley: “Do you wonder  - ”

“I don't.” Wolfgang is abrupt in his response.

He can feel Kala's thoughts racing from Will to him, imagining the difference between a fractured connection and a severed one; how close he'd come to dying in Sergei's home had it not been for her. She thinks of his mother - has an image of her from Wolfgang's shared memory - and wonders if her cluster had all been there the day she died, as they'd all been present when Riley had thought to protect them by putting the gun to her mouth. 

He doesn't want to think any of those things. He doesn't want to think of witnesses to his mother's death.

To her murder. 

In Berlin he uncharacteristically pulls over to the roadside. His chest constricts, and he sits staring at nothing in particular, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly. He can't suppress the feeling of helplessness that wells inside of him when he remembers watching Riley with the gun. It is the same feeling that smothered him in the hospital with Felix. At its edge is a dangerous rage. 

“ _Mera Jaan_.” Kala sits beside him, strokes the side of his face with gentle fingers. “Wolfgang, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.”

His hand grasps onto hers. Wolfgang takes a breath, exhales slowly, carefully. 

He is back in Mumbai, where she has reached her father's restaurant and has paused just outside, as if still in a heated phone conversation. He looks down at her worried face, her dark eyes troubled. When he's with her, he remembers that he's better than he believes. She grounds him. He'll do anything for her. 

“I miss you,” he says suddenly. His other hand reaches out to cup her face; he frowns at her. 

Kala smiles a little. “I miss you too.”

“I'm coming back to you as soon as possible.” He is looking at her intently, his expression brittle. She nods. “I'll need to take care of a few things for Felix, but he wants to come too.”

“Of course.”

“And then we can see each other again, for real.”

Kala nods. He can see the concern on her face; that his mood worries her. He gives a huff and brings their foreheads together, closes his eyes. He can't explain his emotions: The sudden dread that washes over him, triggered by images that can't be controlled; an idea that latches on his mind that he will lose her, or perhaps even more importantly, that the Cluster will lose her. He suddenly remembers that his aunt told him Viktor has sent the Tatar to Mumbai, and he is immediately alert, tamping down the panic.

“My Russian handler is coming back to Mumbai,” he tells Kala. 

Her eyes grow wide. “Why?”

“I don't know… Viktor sent him. I must ask Viktor.”

She pauses, her face growing still. “By phone.”

He is already checking traffic to get back on the road and turn around. Kala's hand grips his wrist. “No, Wolfgang,” she says. Her voice is firm, and it is enough to pause him. “By phone.” And she releases the door of the glove compartment where he'd put the Sig Sauer before driving off. It's not a weapon for affectation. “Wolfgang.”

“Kala.”

She starts outside of her father's restaurant, surprised by Rajan, who is going inside. 

“Are you alright?” he asks. 

She bobs her head in distracted affirmation, but she hasn't learned - or knows if it's even possible - to carry on a conversation in one place while doing so at another.  She gestures to her phone, but Rajan only looks at her oddly. 

“Did you lose your signal?” he asks, and she notices that he can see her phone is not on. Kala lets out a frustrated groan. “Yes,” she says through gritted teeth. 

“Was it your German friend?” he asks, and his voice is cool, but definitely more curious. “I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I just heard you say ‘Wolfgang’, and that doesn't seem like a particularly desi name.” He smiles a little at his attempt at levity. 

“It's not particularly German, either.”

The relief she feels at the sound of Wolfgang's voice is palpable; he stands behind her as her phone buzzes and she recognizes Felix's cellphone number. She answers immediately. 

“Wolfgang!” she says, and Rajan nods, palms up, gestures as he's going into the restaurant. 

“Why is he there?” 

“I don't know.” She's back in Wolfgang's car and the echo of her voice on his phone is annoying so she disconnects the cell. “Promise me you won't confront Viktor about the Tatar in person. You will call him instead.”

He raises his eyebrows at the tone in her voice but gives in. “I will.”

She looks at him closely.

“I'm shit at lying, especially to you, _Schatz_ ,” he says, almost indignant. “I'll call Viktor when I get home. I won't see him. Promise.”

Kala lets out a breath in relief, looks around furtively in Mumbai, and kisses his cheek. He smiles a little at that, settles into his car and reaches past her to close the door of the glove compartment. 

It's on the tip of her tongue to tell him “and no more guns”, but she knows better. 

“I need to go, but I'll see you tonight,” she says instead. 

He nods, and she's gone before he even pulls away from the roadside. 

Kala removes the earpiece and enters her father's restaurant through the kitchen, as she normally would, where she knows he'll be. She looks around and meets her father's eyes over the large prepping island, where a young man chops up vegetables. She nods hello to her father and he returns the gesture and she gives a little sigh because it feels odd not to chatter with him as soon as she comes in. 

She walks through the kitchen and almost turns down the corridor that leads up the stairs to the family residence, but she pauses, reconsiders. Instead, Kala forges ahead to the restaurant itself and looks around until she sees Rajan, sitting alone at a table, looking through his phone. She walks over to him, asks if she can sit with him. 

“Of course!” He's surprised but pleasantly so. He has a cup of coffee in front of him and a platter of modak. Kala smiles at that, especially when he offers some to her. She shakes her head. 

“What are you doing here so early? Or I guess so late, if you are just now eating lunch.” 

Rajan smiles at her and helps himself to the modak. “Truly, Kala, I think your father makes some of the finest food in Mumbai. First class. I would have found my way here even if he did not have a beautiful daughter.” He says this tearing into the modak with gusto, with clearly no intent to make her self-conscious, and Kala smiles, more at ease. 

“Well,” she says, “Dad will be pleased to know you think so.” 

“He already does. I tell him every time I come here.” Rajan drinks his coffee, smiles a little at her over his cup. 

Kala is silent for a moment, and Rajan puts his coffee down and sits back in his seat. “You didn't have to sit with me,” he says. “What is really troubling you?”

She looks at him cautiously. She was going to mention his mother's visit, ask him if he's well, but now it seems ill-mannered to raise, not to mention arrogant. She shakes her head. “Nothing at all,  Rajan,” she says. “I just wanted to say hello.”

He smiles at her. “Hello,then,” he says with a little laugh. He takes another sip of his coffee. “Resolved things with Wolfgang?”

Kala nods. “Yes.” It occurs to her that she's never told her parents Wolfgang's name, and she's suddenly disturbed that Rajan would know before them. “Well, I should leave you to your ...midday snack?” 

He nods and shrugs as his cell phone buzzes and he answers his phone.  

But as Kala gets up to leave, Rajan gestures for her to wait. 

“She's right here,” he says, “one moment.” He mouths “my father” to her as he hands her his cell. 

Kala sits down, accepts the phone. “Mr. Rasal?” she asks. 

The voice on the other end of the line greets her with a pleasant “Kala! Hello!” and asks how she is doing. 

“Well, thank you.”

There's a brief pause before he asks her if she's said anything to Rajan about his mother coming to visit yesterday. 

“No sir.”

“Good.” There's genuine relief in his voice, and Kala wonders if Mrs. Rasal had spoken to her without her husband's approval. “In any event, Rajan tells me that you've been working independently on some new psychotropic medication.”

Kala shifts guiltily in her chair. “Yes. I know that was something Rajan had mentioned as a potential business interest, and I happen to find it interesting on a personal level, as well, and I had some ideas -”

He cuts off her excuses. “Kala, Kala. It's ok, I approve.” He chuckles a little on the phone. “I know I've had you on that alpha blocker project for a while, but if you would like to be transferred to the other project, it sounds like you've already made as much progress on it as the other researchers.”

Kala grows still. She had known there was a project - a very large, confidential project - that she suspected her independent work might be overlapping. She licks lips that have suddenly gone dry. “What project is that, sir?”

“It's very unusual,” he says. “As you know, I'm not a believer in growing our company beyond what we're known for, at least, not so quickly. But we've been finessing our autoimmune research for the past 30 years, and my son has bigger ideas than I.” There's a note of pride in his voice and Kala looks up at Rajan, gives him a faint smile. He's looking concerned that his father has kept her on the phone so long. “But I'll have my research supervisor discuss this with you tomorrow, when you come into work. Would you please let me speak to my son?"

Kala returns the phone, and Rajan finishes saying goodbye to his father. He apologizes for keeping her, thanks her for staying and taking the call.

And in the back of her mind, Kala wonders whether the rumors of the project are true: wonders whether she will be working on drugs like DMT, and wonders whether Rajan's company is doing business with BPO.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments are much appreciated! Thanks for reading!


	19. Suspicions

It takes Wolfgang three tries before he finally gets a hold of Viktor.

The first time, Wolfgang hangs up before anyone answers: Twenty minutes of driving in silence has worked his imagination into a painful spiral, especially since he feels a heavy anxiety from Kala, and he grudgingly admits to himself that he won't be able to carry on a lucid conversation without hurling threats.

The second time, Viktor's voicemail picks up. Wolfgang doesn't leave a message.

Finally, on the third try, Viktor himself answers, and he knows why Wolfgang calls: He'd just been speaking to his mother.

"If you are calling about why I sent Yeruslan to Mumbai," he says, "it's nothing to do with your woman. My mother is being over-imaginative."

Wolfgang gives a huff of disbelief. "You don't expect me to believe that?" He grimaces at the phone, paces between the door and the sofa before finally sitting down.

"Believe it or don't, it's the truth." Viktor says, offering nothing further.

Wolfgang rubs his eyes, suddenly weary of the high drama. "Look," he says quietly, "can we cut the shit? If the Tatar isn't in Mumbai for Kala, why did you send him there?"

Viktor mumbles something unintelligible to someone with him before answering Wolfgang's question: "There are other things in Mumbai besides Miss Dandekar." Viktor pauses, and Wolfgang can picture him shrugging. "I run a business after all. You've done what you were hired for, and you can fade into domestic bliss, for all I care. I've promised you, and I've promised my mother, that I won't force you to continue working for me."

"It's a coincidence that the Tatar is on his way to Mumbai?" Wolfgang can't keep the sarcasm from his voice.

"She is safe from us." Viktor's tone is placating. "You needn't worry. And in case you are wondering, you are safe, too."

Wolfgang sinks deeper into the sofa, feet propped up on the coffee table, head lolled back and eyes shut. He is silent for so long that Viktor prompts him by repeating his name. "I'm still here," Wolfgang responds. "' _Chto russkomu khorosho, to nemtsu - smert._ '"  _What's good for the Russian is death to the German_ , he recites. Wolfgang is actually surprised the old saying returns to him.

Viktor laughs a little. " _Nu, eto khorosho, chto ty russkim,_ " he says.  _Then it's a good thing you're Russian._

Wolfgang's jaw ticks. " _Bin ich nicht. Ich bin Deutsch, verdammt,_ " he grinds out.  _I'm not. I'm fucking German._

Viktor chuckles again, and sounds genuinely amused. " _Wenn du dich dadurch besser fühlst, von mir aus,_ " he responds in flawless German.  _If it makes you feel better, that's fine by me_. He pauses for effect, switches languages effortlessly: " _No ty russkiy._ "  _But you're Russian._

…

Kala's temple throbs and her heart pounds as she makes her way from the restaurant to the family quarters upstairs and finally to her bedroom. She closes the door quietly behind her and makes her way to her desk where her laptop sits. She flips it open, logs on with cold and nervous fingers. Her mind races with the information of the morning: the trafficking of DMT, the suppressant and the hunters; Wolfgang's mother and the project that Kala is being reassigned to.

Nomi is bleary-eyed but awake, standing behind Kala's chair and peering over her shoulder. "What did you need?" she asks, throwing her glasses on. "What's happening? I swear to God this time difference thing is killing me."

"I think Rajan's company is working with BPO." Kala's voice skirts the edge of panic as she logs into work.

"What are you doing?" Nomi is instantly alert, slams the laptop shut as soon as the company logo floats on the screen. "The _fuck_ , Kala, if that's true don't log into work to look for shit! What are you trying to find?"

Kala takes a breath to gather her composure before she answers: "Mumbai is on that list that Wolfgang stole from the safe; it's a port of call. I think Rajan's company manufactures the suppressant."

Nomi stares down at her in disbelief. "Why do you think that? Why, exactly, do you think Rajan's company is working with BPO?"

Kala turns back to her desk, presses her fingers against her throbbing temples. "When I first started working on the medicine for Will," she says, "after I'd poured over Metzger's information on that flash drive, I had ideas for the kind of chemicals that could work to block our connection. But my company - Rajan's company - focuses on immunodeficiency disorders, primarily HIV/AIDS, and what I needed was access to chemicals that make up psychotropic meds." She passes a hand over her eyes, as if shutting out the flurry of thoughts.

She tells Nomi that some years back, maybe eight years ago, before she was hired, Rajan's father thought to expand the research division to deal with psychotropic meds, but changed his mind, claiming that he preferred the niche area the company was known for.

But two years ago, Rajan came back from a pharmaceutical conference in Europe, convinced that his father's plan should be resurrected. He hounded his father until he was given permission to do just that, with the researchers who had been around 8 years before.

No one knows what the pilot division is working on other than they're psych meds: Rajan has never told her; she'd never been curious.

Rajan's company encourages its researchers to do independent work within the company's mission; it's why Kala was never really questioned about her extra time at the lab. And when it came time to seriously work on Will's medication, she had access to chemicals and equipment from the new division.

"Certain chemicals would be common for psychotropic meds," Kala explains, and she frowns, shakes her head. "But everything I needed - _everything_! - I had it; I didn't need to order anything. Even certain simulations...a Markov model…" Her voice cracks. "In the back of my head I must have suspected, but I was so close to helping Will…" She shakes her head again. "And now that I've been asked by Mr. Rasal-" She laughs a little at that. "Doctor Rasal," she corrects, "to transfer to the new division because I've made as much progress as the other researchers?  _As much progress_? What else can that mean, other than they're also working on some sort of psycellium suppressant?"

Nomi takes in everything Kala tells her and her mind races as quickly as Kala's.

"No...no," she says thoughtfully. "This isn't a disaster. This... could be a gift." Nomi sits down on her haunches and meets Kala's puzzled gaze. "Go to work tomorrow. Get assigned to the project and find out what it is. If it has nothing to do with BPO or psycellium or anything like that, then you've worried for nothing. But if it does, this is our opportunity to gather intel. This could be the break we need to stop BPO."

Kala sucks in a breath, looks back steadily at Nomi. "Yes," she says. Of course.

"I'll look into Rajan's company, see what I can find. It has to be that way so you're not compromised." Nomi smiles gently at Kala. "You're in research anyway; you wouldn't have access to the info you want." She searches Kala's face. "Are we good? You're ok?"

Kala nods her head, relieved to at least have a plan. Nomi gives her a hug and is gone before Kala can hug her back.

Kala sags a little in her chair, looks over at her small statue of Ganesha -the same one she'd brought with her to Berlin - and it calms her to think more clearly.

In her heart, she doesn't believe Rajan or his family would ever work with a company like BPO if they knew the truth. They're good people, and the company's code of ethics isnt just a series of platitudes, but a true ethos.

But she does believe that for whatever reason, the Rasals may very well be involved for now.

Kala stands up and paces, wondering whether she can trust Rajan enough to ask him. If she thinks it through, wouldn't she naturally be curious about her new assignment? Enough to ask Rajan what the purpose of the research and the meds are for? Surely it would seem odd if she didn't ask.

She wonders if taking down BPO will ultimately destroy Rajan's company: It is much smaller than BPO, and she doubts it can withstand a scandal, even if the Rasals aren't directly involved. A company would have to be as large as Sun's to withstand the guilt by association.

Kala thinks of Will and Riley; Nomi and Wolfgang's mother; Angelica and the little girl, Sarah, who haunts Will's memories.

Hunted.

Kala stares down at her closed laptop. She needs to get her own flat as soon as possible, and not even for reasons of privacy: She doesn't want her family endangered if anything goes wrong - whatever that means. And she worries suddenly for them: her sister, her parents.

She finds herself sitting next to Wolfgang on his sofa in the flat outside of Berlin, where he rests with his eyes closed but she can feel the tension still coursing through him. Felix's cellphone is still clutched in his hand.

He opens his eyes and blinks at her. " _Schatz_?"

She smiles a little apologetically at him. "I know you said you'd be here as soon as possible, but how quickly before you'll be here?" she asks. "I need you. "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's Russian and there's German so...thank you, KinoGlowWorm and Foulbearhideout :-)   
> (And as this story drifts more to Mumbai, fair warning that all I've got is Google Translate, so be kind...)
> 
> Thank you for reading! And as always, comments are much appreciated!


	20. Limited Solutions

"If you see Yeruslan before I get there, stay away from him. Let me know right away."

Kala looks over at Wolfgang lying on her bed/his bed as she rummages through her closet, trying to select a blouse and skirt for work. He frowns; she frowns back. "Yes, Wolfgang," she responds, in the same tone she reserves for nagging parents: It is his third - maybe fourth - comment about the Tatar since she'd gotten up for work.

Wolfgang's jaw tightens in irritation. He gets up abruptly, is off the bed and facing Kala before she has a moment to react. He puts firm hands on her shoulders.

"Kala," he says, and his eyes are intent on her face, "don't joke. He's _Bratva_ , a bodyguard or enforcer, and he's dangerous."

Kala stares up at him, exasperated, but her sharp reply dies before it even fully forms in her mind: She can see Wolfgang's fear for her in his vibrant blue eyes, that he is barely managing to contain it and morbid visions of her in a hospital bed like Felix. Kala takes a breath. "Of course," she says. "Wolfgang, I know." She places her hands on his arms, looks at him reassuringly. He touches his forehead to hers, gives a quiet huff.

"And if anything goes wrong at work... just _go_ ," he says. " _Bitte_." Please.

She smiles at that. "Nothing will go wrong, at least not between now and when you get here in three days." She touches her nose to his. "Nothing has changed at work. I'm simply on a different project."

He gives a disbelieving grunt, clearly not convinced; but he tilts his head, kisses her hard. It's difficult to be annoyed with him when she feels how afraid he is for her. But it's difficult to feel any real fear for herself when she has six others she can call upon to help her in any given situation. Kala isn't sure what happened to the cluster Wolfgang's mother belonged to, but Kala is sure that _her_ Cluster will always be there to help. She is not truly afraid of the Tatar.

She cups Wolfgang's face with her hands but draws away a little when he begins to pull her fully against him. He, of course, is completely naked and aroused and doing his best to detain her.

"Wolfgang," she says with a laugh. "Beloved… I'm going to be late for work. And I know what you're trying to do, but I need to leave." He ignores her, trails kisses along the column of her neck, licks at the sensitive spot behind her ear that never fails to make her weak.

On a normal morning, he'd be gone by now: back to Berlin to sleep for several more hours before he gets up and starts his day. But this morning, he didn't leave as soon as she got out of bed, and he was still there when she finished her shower.

He wasn't happy to learn yesterday about her suspicions regarding Rajan's company, although there was a certain smugness in his expression when she admitted she didn't know whether she could trust Rajan. He wasn't happy to learn of Nomi's plan, either, although it certainly made sense.

But he was surprised to learn that her reason for asking he hurry to Mumbai is not so much for her protection as her family's.

"If something does go wrong," she'd said, hesitating, "I would feel better knowing you're here, that you can help them." She's mindful that she needs him for the very reason that he feels unworthy of her, and she is anxious that it will upset him.

But Wolfgang isn't upset: After all, fighting is what he does, and he's more pleased than he lets on that Kala entrusts the protection of her family to him. So he agrees, and by the time Felix returns home (presumably from Karaoke Girl's flat, where his celebratory evening had gone), Wolfgang has booked flights for them both.

But in the meantime, he worries for her, and Wolfgang knows it's illogical and futile but still tries to coax her back to bed; put off working on a project that may or may not have anything to do with BPO. Put off leaving the safety of her home to maybe run into Yeruslan in the street.

Kala kisses him, her hands moving from his face to his neck and down to his shoulders, where they coast the hard plane of his muscular swimmer's back before resting to bracket his hips. He sighs against her mouth before his breath hitches in surprise, her hands firmly moving his lower half away from her. She breaks their kiss and her eyes are gentle when he glares back at her accusingly.

"Wolfgang," she says, "go home. I'll be fine. It's just another day at the company. Truly."

He looks back at her and she thinks he'll refuse, but instead, Wolfgang only nods his head slowly. His hold loosens about her, but his eyes are no less concerned. Kala dips her head, gives him a hug and feels him plant a kiss before he is suddenly gone from her.

She thinks she hears him say _be careful._

_Bitte._

…

Kala's new supervisor is younger than she expected: a tall, British-educated man originally from Gujarat, good looking, somewhere in his 40s, who re-introduces himself as Dev Benjamin, but tells her she may simply call him "Dev". She recalls having previously met him at some function or other. He is not as easy-going as Sareen, but he seems pleasant and welcomes Kala to the new division.

Before he takes her to the lab, he gives her a confidentiality and non-disclosure agreement that is different from others she'd executed with the company.

"Our project is actually in collaboration with another company," he explains at her questioning look. "They insist we use their form when we bring someone in, in addition to our standard document."

Kala grows cold, feels a little faint. "Another company?" she asks, taking the proffered agreement. She scans the first paragraph, which recites the parties as herself, Rasal Pharmaceuticals, and … not BPO.

Kala almost visibly sags in relief: The company is a foreign corporation that she doesn't recognize - _Limited Solutions_? she winces a little at the play on words - but at least it's not BPO. She makes an effort to read the 5-page document before executing it. Dev waits patiently. She gives him the signed form and is promptly handed another document, acknowledging that the company owns the rights to the research material and results.

"How does this collaboration affect our work?" she asks, relieved on one level but not wholly at ease. "Do we share resources? Data and material? Is that why there's a need for their own forms?"

Dev shrugs, brows furrowed. "I don't know about the forms," he says. "But we do share research data and create samples here. The other company handles beta testing; they've apparently identified groups eager to participate. But why don't I show you where you'll be working and I'll explain this more fully."

They leave Dev's office and go to a smaller lab not unlike the one used by the other researchers, including Kala. There are six other people there already, all but two she recognizes. She nods hello to them as Dev leads her to her workstation.

She sits on the stool and logs into the computer as she routinely would, but Dev directs her to a new icon that prompts for additional identification. His supervisor's ID has a circuit chip: He inserts it into a reader, types over restrictions, and has Kala run her thumbprint twice on a pad before the system accepts it. He tells her that next time, she can access the project's home page on her own, using her thumbprint. A new home page comes on screen, and several files pop up on the desktop.

Dev explains that the files contain specific research data. She's given a password to access a common cloud storage file that she's to update daily with pertinent information. The "Daily File" as it's called, also contains data shared by the researchers at Limited Solutions and is uploaded every morning, Mumbai time, for everyone to compare and exchange information.

As Dev scrolls through and opens folders to show her where information is input and maintained, Kala feels her heart begin to race. Already she sees folders she is anxious to open and examine; folders containing analyses relevant to the work she'd done for Will. There are folders marked as containing data from critical simulations, and of more interest, beta test results, presumably from volunteer subjects.

"And what, exactly, is this project?" she asks carefully. "Dr. Rasal wasn't very clear when he told me of this transfer, and I've always thought that your division is working on meds to treat delusions caused by psychotic disorders, like schizophrenia."

Dev looks at her in some surprise. "I'm sorry," he says. "I presumed you'd been told." He thinks for a moment, choosing his words with deliberate care.

"It's not quite that." He finally says. Dev closes a folder in the computer and stands back a little, his hands in the pocket of his lab coat. "The goal of the project is to assist in the suppression of a chemical that affects neural and psychological inconsistencies in a small percentage of patients," Dev explains. "Our partner identified some odd physiological abnormalities common to patients that react to this chemical. They also found that synthetic psychotropic meds used in the treatment of schizophrenia patients, when modified, have a positive effect in inhibiting this chemical."

Kala shakes her head. "But this is for a rare disorder? I don't understand, " she says. "You said that the goal is to find a way to suppress some chemical for only a small percentage of patients?" Kala feels as if she is in a fog and can't comprehend what she's being told. She can feel the press of the Cluster, but she concentrates and focuses on Dev's words, eases the connections; there's no need to bring anyone here. "I'm just surprised. I thought this was for a more commercial purpose, when in fact it sounds very specific and niche." She places a smile on her face, tries to appear merely curious. "Isn't this just a med to contain psychosis?"

Dev smiles a little. "Something like that," he says. "But more like a drug to stop a psychosis from even occurring. Although it's not really a psychosis." He looks at Kala curiously. "I heard you might have stumbled on something that our researchers just discovered a little over a year ago, although they'd been working on it since our company agreed to this partnership. To be honest, I thought Rajan must have said something to you."

Kala shakes her head. "Oh no. I have an interest in treating psychosis, and I had these ideas…" She trails off, smiles a little.

Dev is impressed and tells her that her ideas seemed to track data received from Limited Solutions. "I saw the simulation model you ran a month ago. Very impressive."

Kala maintains her composure although she is startled. She hadn't realized her outside work would be reviewed, but she should have expected it, since she had to use the company's software.

"In any event," Dev continues, "however way that occurred, your work tracks findings and hypothesis that we've been working on since this division was restarted two years ago." He leans forward a little conspiratorially, "actually even longer than that, when Dr. Rasal first initiated the research program about 8 or 9 years ago. That was also supposed to be a collaborative with another company, but there was some scandal with them and Dr. Rasal ended it, although really once that partnership ended, there was no further research."

"Oh?" Kala's heart is beating loudly. "What happened then? "

Dev shrugs, brows furrowing. "I don't remember the name of the company, " he says. "It was French. I was working on the project myself at the time. I think the company was French." He shakes his head. "But I do remember that the company was alleged to have ties with some illegal organizations, so Dr. Rasal got out before our partnership was formalized. The immunodeficiency work is our _dal roti._ " _Bread and butter._  "Why would he jeopardize our company's reputation by aligning himself with them? Anyway, that company is still around, but now we work with Limited Solutions. It's a younger company, but I think they've been very good."

"Oh," says Kala.

She catches her lower lip and concentrates again on slowing her racing heart.

The company in partnership with Rasal Pharmaceuticals, Limited Solutions, identified itself on her agreement as a Dutch Corporation.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And as always, comments are much appreciated!


	21. Friends and Enemies

Wolfgang manages a few hours of sleep but gets up around 6AM. He hasn't been able to shake his restlessness since leaving Kala, and barely stops himself from visiting her at the lab. He dresses, goes outside for a run.

It's cold and gray and it's doubtful that the sun will make an appearance at all: It suits his mood as his feet eat up the kilometers and he makes his way to the park. He thinks about his conversation with Kala yesterday and then again this morning, before she'd sent him on his way: her nervousness and excitement at the prospect of uncovering something to help them take down Whispers and BPO. She doesn't believe the Rasals are involved with BPO; she's not really concerned that anything will happen to her. He is alternately frustrated by her naivete and proud of her fearlessness. His own mind is full of all the things that can go wrong. He is serious in his promise to guard her family: They mean everything to her.

When he returns, it's almost 8 and Felix is still asleep. Wolfgang showers, makes coffee and eggs for them both, and checks his messages.

There's an alert from the airline, telling him that another first class seat is available in a direct flight to Mumbai. Kala had insisted that Felix make the trip in two stages to make things as comfortable for him as possible. But now there's a first class seat, and they can arrive on the same day: 6AM flight tomorrow, one stop in Munich, arriving in Mumbai at 2230 PM. Wolfgang changes their flight plans.

When Felix is told a few minutes later, awoken by the smell of coffee, he merely shrugs, takes it all in stride; says they still need to go shopping so they don't look like first-class idiots. Wolfgang rolls his eyes but agrees.

The rest of the morning is spent making arrangements to store his car, settle what's owed on the flat and agree to turn in the keys before the rental office closes. The furniture belongs in the flat, so all there is to pack are their personal belongings, which are already in two new suitcases: They had decided to only bring objects that are irreplaceable, so everything else is donated to a charity down the street. Most of the stuff in the suitcases belong to Felix: some books, memorabilia, that old Conan video that he hangs on to even though good luck finding something to play it on. There are a few photographs. 

Wolfgang's Sig Sauer, the older model Glock, his father's shitty pistol, not to mention some other hardware he'd picked up over the years -including the damn rocket launcher Lito was so enthused over - are already safely stored in a warehouse in Berlin. Wolfgang will need _something,_ but he can't risk getting caught at security. He grimaces, aware of what he has to do. 

He and Felix shop for new clothes, but Wolfgang gives up after an hour. He hates shopping and concedes to Felix's judgment, taking what they have and heading back. Felix insists he'll come by later after he finds a pair of jeans that fit him better.

When Wolfgang arrives at the flat, he hesitates but eventually makes a call.

"You offered to help."

Wolfgang's phone is on speaker. He packs his one and only suitcase with shoes, a pair of boots, a coat, sweaters, hoodies: things he won't really need in India, but may need if he has to leave quickly, for cooler climes. He thinks it might be hard to find these things in India. His duffel is already packed with the clothes he expects to wear, including the ones purchased today with Felix.

Tyotya Anna doesn't hesitate to respond. "Of course!" she says. She's in Berlin until the end of the week, then heading back to Zagreb, where she and Wolfgang's uncle spend most of the year. She speaks to Wolfgang on her own cell phone; she'd given him her number yesterday. "What do you need?"

"A contact in Mumbai," he says. "I need a gun. I don't want to risk trying to get mine through security."

"Of course." Tyotya Anna doesn't seem surprised. "Tell me what you want. I'll make sure you get it." Wolfgang suddenly thinks how fucked up this is: that he can call his aunt for a weapons supplier in another country and she doesn't even think twice before agreeing. Fuck. Kala has no idea.

He asks for a Jericho and his aunt makes a little sound, telling him it's what his Dyadya Sacha carries, as if that bit of coincidence will bond him to his uncle. She makes a comment about Israeli weapons; he tells her he'll be in Mumbai by Tuesday evening. She assures him it will be there.

"I've spoken to Viktor," she adds, after a moment. "Yeruslan isn't in Mumbai for Kala."

"You believe him now?" he asks curtly. "You're the one that said not to trust him."

"In this, I know he's telling me the truth."

Wolfgang scoffs at that. "Again. Then you tell me why I can believe him." He zips up the suitcase, lifts it off his bed and sets it to the side, waits for her answer, scowling at the phone as if she can see.

"Because we have business in Mumbai," she says evenly. "It's to do with the list you got for Sacha. Yeruslan is there to meet someone."

"That list is connected to the hunters. To BPO."

Tyotya Anna sounds frustrated, denies a connection, denies knowing what BPO is. "I told you that list belongs to your uncle. Your Grandfather Hassan took it, and Sergei gave it to someone else." She pauses, gives an impatient huff. "Alexander and Viktor have stepped in to provide the suppressant, now that Hassan and Sergei are gone. Sergei's successor doesn't know about the suppressant; doesn't know it exists, or who supplies it and who pays for it. And now that the list is back, that successor won't know." She pauses delicately. "We're there in Mumbai to re-establish our business relationship."

It makes sense. He shouldn't give a fuck. He really shouldn't. And yet… "I told you what that could do to someone who is ...like my mother."

She is silent for a second, maybe two. "Yes." And really, what did he expect her to say? That they'd stop? _Bratva_  traffic drugs and weapons and people -although Nomi had ruled that last out for Viktor, small consolation. They don't give a shit to whom or for what. He never did before, either.

Wolfgang shakes his head: developing scruples is fucking inconvenient.

"The demand for the suppressant," he asks, "is only so the hunters don't find the sensate? There's no other reason?"

"Is that what your mother was?" Tyotya Anna asks quietly. She sounds curious, sighs. "Mostly. Yes."

"And if we get rid of the hunters…?"

There's a small pause. "Then there's no real market for the suppressant."

He is silent for a moment. "If you help me it's going to interfere with the business."

"I know." There's a slight strain in her voice that wasn't there earlier. "It's nothing," she assures him. "Compared to others, the profit from the suppressant makes nothing. Let me handle that. I told you. I'm not failing you again."

He remembers that the notes he'd taken in Amsterdam disclose some of the clients for the suppressant; that among the notes is a reference to  _СВР РФ,_ the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service. He doubts that interfering with anything to do with them is insignificant.

He doesn't understand it. He doesn't understand why she would do that for him when he barely knows her; when she barely knows him. He doubts it's merely a sense of duty. He is suspicious, but pragmatic.

"Just so long as the Tatar doesn't go near Kala," he says. His jaw clenches as he hangs up. He'll feel better when he's in Mumbai himself, protecting Kala, even if she doesn't think she needs it.

…

That Limited Solutions is related to the Frenchman who's safe Wolfgang had broken into is a suspicion that Kala must keep to herself for now: She can't visit with anyone while she's working in the lab, interacting with her colleagues.

And by lunch time, Kala thinks she _knows_.

She spends the morning talking to the other researchers, going over recent data in the Daily Folder. There's a little embarrassed laughter among some of her colleagues when Dev leaves; they're not convinced what they work on has a true medical basis, although they admit the data is intriguing.

Then one of them mentions neural connections and cerebral aberrations and asks Kala how she'd come up with the psych med that seems to inhibit a particular chemical trigger.

Kala shrugs self-consciously, tells them the same thing she tells everyone else. One of them comments that he'd seen the models she ran and expresses his admiration and marvels what she could do with real data; Kala demurs.

It is that simple.

An animated discussion follows on the data they've been receiving from Limited Solutions; there had been a subject who had backed out of the study and set back their research tremendously. The subject would have been the first confirmed case of genetics factoring into the neural and cerebral aberrations, as the subject's mother had had them, and the subject's vitals and EKG were suspect. They'd gotten the news a month or so ago, when someone from Limited Solutions was visiting the company. 

Kala asks who had come, but no one remembers; he wasn't in the company's profile, but he was obviously important. All anyone can remember is that he was French, not Dutch.

Kala asks to see the data that is available; her colleagues are all too eager to get her fresh perspective.

And the next several hours are spent immersed in reviewing one startling report after another. 

At lunch, Kala politely declines to go with her colleagues, says she has some things to attend to. She goes outside to a courtyard, sits in a quiet corner, and takes out her phone, pretends to talk while she visits Riley.

It's morning wherever Riley and Will are. Will is on a burner phone, talking animatedly to someone while Riley is clearing away breakfast dishes. Will pauses his discussion, concentrates, and finally gives a relieved little smile.

"Riles, one of the Cluster is here. .. Is it Kala?" he asks her. "Is she here?"

It's a new location for them, and they're in a spartan but neat studio apartment. Kala thinks they're still in northern Europe but doesn't ask. Riley looks over at Kala and smiles. "Yes," she tells Will. "It's that time."

Will says hello to Kala, apologizes because he has to finish talking to Diego before he can answer questions. He goes back to his animated discussion.

Riley gives the update that Kala usually asks for at this time of the day: The meds are working fine. Since Will is diligent about taking the anti seizure medicine, he hasn't had an episode like the first time. He continues to take the psychotropic med at no more than 8 hour intervals to keep from connecting with the Cluster and letting Whispers in. They get nervous any longer than that.

Riley walks over to the table by the bed, begins to thumb through the journal to give Kala more data, but Kala stops her. Only then does Riley notice Kala's tension.

"I need to ask Will some questions, but I need to know some things about you, too," Kala says. "You need to tell me as much as you can about your mother."

"My mother?" Riley's voice is barely above a whisper.

"Yes." Kala can barely contain her excitement? fear? horror? any of it. "I have their data," she says. "I think I have BPO's research data, and it goes back years. And there are no names - none - but I can guess. I think I can guess who at least some of the subjects were."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to KinoGlowWorm for making sure I didn't drop a thread :-)
> 
> As always, comments are much appreciated! Thanks for reading!


	22. Crescendo

 

It's almost time for Kala to leave work when Nomi finally visits. Although she has been expecting it for the last hour, it's still something of a surprise when she tilts her head back a bit to stretch and bumps against Nomi's chest.

"I spoke to Riley." Nomi steadies Kala by the shoulders, settles her gently before letting go. Kala's work station is shared with another researcher who's been helping her most of the day. Sunil is engrossed in some other analysis and doesn't really pay attention, but since he's sitting across from her at the other end of the table, Kala is mindful of her movements. She dips her head, gives a little nod.

"She told me you may have found data from BPO," Nomi continues. "You think there's a connection between your company and the man who owns that house in Amsterdam." Kala wants to turn around and talk to her directly.

She suddenly finds herself standing next to Nomi, watching as her body remains seated in front of the computer screen, immobile except for her breathing and the flicker of her eyelids. Kala is surprised, although Wolfgang told her that his first encounter with Lito happened this way. She hasn't experienced this type of visiting before, and while she's curious, it's irrelevant to what she wants to discuss with Nomi.

"I'm sure there's a connection." Kala frowns slightly. "This division is working with another company from The Netherlands called Limited Solutions. A man from there visited not long ago, maybe when I was in Berlin, and they say he was French, not Dutch."

Nomi is nodding her head. "Yes, yes, and you were right to ask Riley to get me." Kala notices then that Nomi's in a white camisole and pajama bottoms, her hair in a messy ponytail. It's evident sleep has been interrupted -again- and Kala gives Nomi an apologetic look, stammering how sorry she is.

Nomi shakes her head and makes a dismissive gesture. "No worries," she says. "Before I saw Riley, I'd confirmed the connection between Marc Brouchard's former company, _Laboritoires Fiacre_ , and Rasal Pharmaceuticals: Rasal was one of 6 pharma companies that was being courted nine years ago to partner globally with them. But as we know, everything broke down when rumors hit of government investigations into alleged associations with foreign criminal elements, although nothing ever came of the rumors." Nomi starts pacing and gestures to someone Kala doesn't see, murmurs a distracted "thanks babe", and resumes her place standing on the other side of Kala's body.

"Rajan's father began this division to research psych meds as part of a cross collaboration," Nomi continues. "The industry news mentioned advancement of treatment for things like schizophrenia. But once things fell apart, Rajan's father lost interest in expanding that research. Aside from Rasal, 3 other companies bailed out of the partnership. Public blame was never placed on Brouchard, but he resigned abruptly about a month after the last company pulled out." Nomi leans against the desk. "Nothing more shows up on Brouchard, but he's obviously into something else or he wouldn't have that info in the safe... So after I spoke to Riley, I kinda broke into your company's records," Nomi looks completely unapologetic, " to see if I could find out what conference Rajan attended in Europe a couple of years ago, which I _did_. Then I simply went to the sponsor's records, got the registration list, and can you just guess who Rajan probably met while he was there... in Amsterdam?"

Kala gives a startled gasp, just as Sunil notices Kala's unusual stillness, looks at her curiously, and asks if she is ok.

Kala returns effortlessly. "Yes, yes," she smiles. "Just absorbed in some of this data."

Sunil nods his head, stretches and looks around. One or two of the other researchers are already putting things away. "It's almost time to go," he says. "Work will still be here tomorrow."

"True." Kala smiles but shakes her head. "I think I'll stay just a little bit longer. I'm still new to this and it's fascinating, really."

He smiles a little, asks if she would like to grab something to eat with him, first, which she politely declines. "Next time, then," he says, and gathers his things while Nomi chuckles behind Kala, who blushes self-consciously.

" _When_  is Wolfgang getting here?" Nomi teases. But the mere mention of Wolfgang sobers Kala. She steals a glance at Nomi, who can feel her sudden tension. "What is it? Is something wrong?" Kala gives a faint nod, even as Sunil continues to pack up, making small talk. Nomi waits another minute or two before Sunil leaves and Kala is able to remove herself from her body. Two other researchers remain.

"What's wrong?" demands Nomi.

Kala shakes her head. "Do you think Limited Solutions is connected to BPO?"

Nomi's brows furrow. "Brouchard was listed as a 'consultant' for Limited Solutions when he attended that conference. It's a small company, fairly new. I have nothing to tie Brouchard or _Fiacre_  or Limited Solutions to BPO." Nomi gives a shrug, shakes her head. "I don't know what Brouchard's relationship was with the Bogdanows. But I think it's pretty clear that he knows what BPO is doing, because I think he's the one who provided the suppressants. Who else could have done that for Hassan? And who would plant the idea for this vague neural suppressant crap that half the researchers here don't even think is medically supported?"

Kala feels sick. Physically sick. It takes a moment for Nomi to understand why.

"I don't know if Rajan and his family know what's going on," she admits. "Even if they did, I'm not sure if Limited Solutions is a bad guy." Nomi's voice grows thoughtful. "Why would they make something to deliberately hinder BPO's ability to search for people like us if they're partners?" She is silent for a moment, considering, before she focuses her attention back to Kala, suddenly recalling why she's even there. "But now that you've had time to look, show me what it is you had Riley wake me up for."

Kala expels a nervous breath. When she'd first seen it, she wasn't sure about the information: She only knew she needed to show it to Nomi. No one else. Not just yet. And now that she's confirmed with Will, and Riley, too...

Kala takes a deep breath, and Nomi can feel her putting up a barrier; a skill they'd all figured out in the weeks since discovering what they are, although some - particularly Wolfgang - are better than others. Kala looks at Nomi expectantly, and while Nomi's not certain why there's a need, she also takes a breath, concentrates. The rest of the Cluster are blocked.

Kala is back in her body, directs the cursor to a tab; clicks until she reaches an archive folder. They wait a few seconds for the info to download before a spreadsheet flickers to life.

The spreadsheet is labeled "Beta Test Subjects 1995-2000", and Nomi frowns, confused. "That's odd," she begins, but says nothing further. It is an 80-page index, each page containing dozens of names: first name, last initial. The subjects are broken down according to the particular test they participated in, and categorized further by age group, then gender. The columns are a "before/after" pattern: data before testing followed by data after, with codes to locate the detailed reports.

Kala finds a tab marked "Limbic Connectivity" and Nomi catches her breath: the youngest age group is 1- 5.

" _Holy shit_."

Kala scrolls down to the next age group, 6-10, to the subcategory of "female", and highlights a girl whose information Will has memorized: 4'2", 78lbs...her race, date and place of birth, are all under her name, _Sara P. [D]_. She is from "Chicago, Illinois (USA)".

" _Oh my god_."

Kala mumbles softly beneath her breath. "There's more."

She expels another short huff, continues scrolling to another page on the spreadsheet, highlights an entry for a woman in the 35-40 age group. Her height, weight, race, date and place of birth are listed in a small bio beneath her first name, last initial; there is additional notation: _Issue:Y; female (1) DOB 88.08.08_. The subject is from Reykjavik, Iceland.

" _Shit_." Nomi is bent over her shoulder, hand to her mouth.

Kala types "88.08.08" in the search bar.

A woman in the same age group, same study: _Issue: Y; male (1) DOB 88.08.08_. The subject is from Berlin, Germany. Kala swallows sudden tears. She whispers in a voice that only Nomi can hear: "They never saw her body."

There is one other match. Kala highlights an entry for a man: _Issue: Y; male (1) DOB 88.08.08; in utero (1)._ The subject is from Limuru, Kenya.

Nomi and Kala can feel it: a low hum of unease that resonates in the Cluster; similar to yesterday's collective shudder, when Wolfgang discussed their fate over breakfast with his aunt. It is loudest with Riley and Capheus, who can sense the particular connection to them but don't understand and know they are blocked from visiting. Oddly, Wolfgang is silent, and only then does Kala realize that _he_ has blocked _them_ , and she wonders in some surprise why he does so, but can't risk letting her guard down to probe further.

"Why are we blocking the others? How can we not tell them?" Nomi demands. "They have a right to know."

Kala shakes her head, her face troubled. "They'll want to know what happened," she says softly, "and I don't have answers." She catches her lip, worries it. "I don't have access to the records attached to these archived files. I've asked; no one can get to them. I'll have to ask Dev tomorrow. When I get the answer, I'll tell them."

Nomi grimaces, shakes her head: "Whether you get the records or not, they should be told."

Kala nods.

"And if you can't get them, then I can."

Kala smiles a little. She was hoping so.

…

Something isn't right.

Wolfgang wears a path on the carpet, pacing from the door to the table, his ear to his cell phone. His aunt called twice while his phone was charging, plugged into the bathroom outlet of the hotel room where he and Felix are spending the night since the keys to their apartment had to be turned in before 3 that afternoon. Wolfgang had left the phone while running other errands. When he returned, not only had there been 2 missed calls, but a text message: "call me as soon as you get this".

Wolfgang had stared at the message, considered what it can be about, and blocks out the Cluster. He doesn't want them involved in anything else to do with his family. Especially Kala.

Tyotya Anna finally picks up.

"Wolfgang," she says, relieved. There's another voice there and she puts him on speaker. "Viktor is here, too."

" _Scheisse_ ," Wolfgang mutters. "What is this about? What's the urgency?"

"There are too many coincidences at work here to be just coincidences." Viktor sounds more annoyed than alarmed. "Wolfgang! It seems we may have more in common than we thought."

"What?"

"Ms. Dandekar. We need to get her before others do, and they are already on their way. You are leaving tomorrow morning? You'll be too late. Yeruslan is already there. She needs to go with him today."

Wolfgang glares unseeingly at a startled Felix, just now returning to their room. "Why? What are you talking about? "

"For the record," Viktor begins, "I don't believe in this shit. I run a business, and it's come to my attention that you might actually need what I sell."

"I don't."

Viktor gives a disbelieving laugh. "Sure," he says. "But we're trying to help her." He pauses, aware Wolfgang is waiting for an explanation, finally gives a short cough and continues: "In any event, this afternoon I learned from someone who knows that a certain doctor and his team left this morning for Mumbai. They recently lost a subject who walked out of one of their facilities with the assistance of someone they identified as a police officer from the US. They have not been able to find the pair, but interestingly enough, the subject and the officer share the same birthdate, as does another subject who managed to leave before being transferred to a facility. Apparently, this coincidence is critical information that has caused the doctor to pull every name of every person born on that date, and somehow, no doubt through some complicated algorithm, determine which of the lucky people sharing that birthdate get a special visit from him, personally. And guess whose name appeared?"

Wolfgang looks even more grim, his jaw ticking. "That has nothing to do with you," he says at last. "Why are you trying to help her?"

Viktor doesn't answer for a moment, gives an infamous sigh. "Because she means something to you, and the hunters, as my mother calls them, are on their way to take her. Now."

It's the word "hunters" that chills him. Wolfgang concentrates on calming his racing blood.

"Dr. Matheson will arrive in Mumbai at 2230 tonight." Tyotya Anna is calm, cuts through Viktor's posturing, Wolfgang's hesitation. "Yeruslan is already there. I know you don't trust him, but she will need help. Yeruslan can get her, keep her safe until you arrive."

"No." Wolfgang frowns, can feel the vein at his throat throbbing. "I don't want him to get her."

"You can't mean to leave her alone until you get there." For once, Viktor sounds sincere, concerned.

Wolfgang lets out a short breath, manages an angry twist of his mouth that only somewhat resembles a smile.

"She won't be, " he says.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> And as always, comments are much appreciated.


	23. Preparations

In Mumbai, Kala sits on a crowded bus and stares vacantly as it drives the 35 minute route that will take her home. Wolfgang stands protectively over her, although the people on the bus are unaware of his presence. The curious thing is that there is definitely still a space that he seems to occupy: As if even though he can't be seen, the mind subconsciously recognizes that he's there. On any other day, she'd be diverted by this theory. But tonight, she's only aware of a faint burst of panic before fear creeps in.

Whispers is arriving in Mumbai to take her. She can't go home. She can't return to the lab tomorrow morning. She needs to explain to her parents what's going on. Then she needs to disappear. 

“ _Schatz_.” 

Kala exhales to calm her nerves; she's in a hotel room, sitting next to Wolfgang on the edge of his bed. Felix's things are on another bed close by, but he's not in the room. 

Wolfgang curls his hand around Kala's; she shifts their fingers to intertwine, clasps tightly. She doesn't deny that she's afraid, but Kala forces herself to move over it, too practical not to recognize that just being afraid accomplishes nothing. Instead, her mind is already humming with tasks to accomplish before 11:30PM tonight, when she expects Whispers will reach her father's restaurant. She doesn't believe Whispers will bother with waiting until the morning; he'll arrive under some official aegis, police or other escort in tow, to surprise her. 

“I'm ok, Wolfgang,” she says reassuringly. “I'll be ok.”

He'd told her as she was leaving work, walking to the bus stop. As Mumbai is already 4 and a half hours ahead, he didn't waste time but simply blurted out what Tyotya Anna told him: Whispers’ flight arrives at 10:30PM, and he's there for Kala.

She hadn't reacted except for a sudden exhalation of breath. Perhaps it was shock. Perhaps it was because the day has been so full of revelations she was unphased. 

But of course once she'd sat on the bus, it was hard not to feel apprehension. Panic. Fear. 

“I'm already checking with Bug to see if he knows anyone you can crash with in India.” Kala hadn't noticed that Nomi was there as well, sitting on a chair by the window, overlooking the airport. Wolfgang has already enlisted her help in tracking Whispers: when his plane arrives, when he's on the ground, perhaps contriving glitches in transit to slow him down or keep him off of Kala while they move her somewhere safe. 

The first plan had been to get Kala on the next flight to anywhere. It had never occurred to Nomi that Kala couldn't simply take her passport and leave the country; that a visa is required for the countries where Nomi has contacts, with a myriad of hoops that need to be overcome. Kala had only managed to spontaneously visit Wolfgang because, ironically, she and Rajan had been planning a month-long honeymoon exploring northern Europe, intrigued by the prospect of cool weather: Oslo, Stockholm, Helsinki. By coincidence -or maybe not, since Rajan had been there before- they decided to start in Berlin over Amsterdam. But now her Schengen visa is expired, and it will take Nomi some time to hack into government systems and fake an approval.  

“I've got a room for a few nights at the hotel I stayed in last time.” Wolfgang's expression is enigmatic. “it's under the same alias. I'll tell them you're coming ahead. I changed my flight this morning; Felix and I will be there tomorrow night.”

Kala looks at him, alarmed: “No! Why are you still coming? What if he catches you too? You need to stay here, in Berlin. I'll find a way to you.”

Wolfgang shakes his head, frowns at her. “No,” he says firmly. “I'm coming for you. We'll leave together.”

She is suddenly on the verge of tears, on a crowded bus in Mumbai, in a hotel in Berlin. She looks up to keep them from falling. “ _Mere_ _Pyaara_ ,” she says, “don't come. If they take us both...”

Nomi looks over at Wolfgang: He watches Kala, and his expression is raw with an emotion that she recognizes. She gives a small sigh. “Honey, I don't think you're going to win this argument,” she says gently. “I don't think anything is going to keep him away.”

Kala turns her head to look at him. It's his worst idea yet, and she's exasperated and afraid. He stares back at her, eyes blazing, and she knows that look and that Nomi is right. He'll come for her.  “Wolfgang,” she says softly.

He can feel her giving in, and he suddenly grins. He drops his forehead to touch hers, kisses her quickly. “I'll meet you at the hotel. Nomi's checked; no reservations for Matheson there.” Relief washes over Kala, although she knows it shouldn't. He shouldn't be going. She nods her head, cups his face with her free hand. “And,” he continues, “don't worry about your family. I'll take care of them.” 

She is surprised that he still thinks of them, and she's grateful. “Thank you.” She is silent for a moment, gives a little huff. “I'll go home and explain,” she says, her voice trailing off. She looks at Nomi. “You'll have to find the answer yourself after all,” she says apologetically. Nomi nods back. They had just touched the proverbial iceberg today. 

“This is just a delay,” Nomi says. “We'll get them.”

And then Kala is back on the bus in Mumbai, alone.  She scoots over in her seat a little to permit an older woman to squeeze beside her. She plans for her departure. 

...

When Kala arrives at the restaurant and goes through the kitchen, it's apparent from the look on her face that something is wrong. 

Sanyam sees her, asks his assistant to take over, and approaches Kala cautiously, as if afraid of scaring her away. For a moment, he doesn't say a word, heart in his throat, looking for signs of physical harm on her legs, her arms, her neck.  When he doesn't find any, he meets her eyes and his relief is short-lived. All he can think to do is open his arms to her, engulf her in a tremendous hug. 

“ _Jo bhi ho_ ,” he tells her, “ _uska hum ek saath saamna kareingey_.”  _Whatever it is, we'll face it together._

Kala hugs him back fiercely. 

They find her mother and Daya, and when they're gathered in the sitting room, upstairs, above the restaurant, Kala tells them about Angelica and the Cluster; about BPO, and the man that will come looking for her. 

…

In Berlin, Wolfgang argues with Felix about Yeruslan. Felix thinks it's crazy to leave Kala unprotected, even if Wolfgang is there “visiting” and she can call on him or Sun for help if she needs it.  Wolfgang merely glares at him. 

“And how are you protecting her family if this Whispers guy shows up tonight?” continues Felix.  “Yeah we're there tomorrow night, but doesn't help if they show up before us. Or actually doesn't help  _me_ since I'm not - you know. And he can't-” Felix gestures two fingers at his eyes.

Wolfgang scowls and runs an impatient hand through his hair. He gets up and paces. 

“Just take Viktor and Anna up on their offer until we get there,” argues Felix.  “Look, they didn't have to call and tell you about Whispers. They could have just let it go, but they called. I say, have the Tatar stay with Kala's family at least, and then he helps you out a little.” 

It galls him but he knows Felix is right. He agrees but talks Felix into staying with the Dandekars while he leaves with Kala, even though Felix worries that both Wolfie and Kala are susceptible to Whispers, with no one to help them who's _not_ a Sensate. 

Wolfgang grabs the smartphone and pulls up Tyotya Anna’s cell. 

“Hey.”

He looks up at a suddenly sheepish Felix. “What?”

“Do you think these _affenschwanz_ are packing? Cause I'd like something if that's the case.”  

Felix has two guns, both of which were put in storage a couple of months before, right after the ill-advised diamond heist. 

“I'm getting a Jericho when I arrive,” Wolfgang says; Felix makes an approving face. “I'll ask one for you too.” This seems to appease him, and Felix grins, excited to be doing something other than shuffling around. 

Wolfgang calls his aunt, asks for help. She is a little surprised to hear back, but offers what assistance she can. He asks for a Jericho for Felix and drops the tone of his voice, asks about Yeruslan.

He's on speaker and Tyotya Anna is still with Viktor, and she agrees to another gun and immediately volunteers to send the Tatar to Kala. Wolfgang asks that the Tatar merely drive Kala to the same hotel they'd stayed at in Mumbai; he doesn't trust the discretion of cab drivers. After that, Wolfgang needs him to return to the Dandekars, in case the hunters come tonight, before he and Felix arrive. 

“He can keep an eye on Kala's family,” his aunt agrees. “If the hunters arrive tonight, her family won't know what to do. Of course. I'll send him back.”

Before he hangs up, Tyotya Anna tells Wolfgang she thinks she knows a way to resolve their family concerns, and Wolfgang tenses, still unsure of her loyalty but with little choice now. Viktor makes a grunting noise in the background, but agrees it's worth discussing. He and his mother had apparently been discussing it quite a bit already.

After all, there's a lot of money to be made if she's correct. 

...

An hour after returning home, Kala is packing clothes and other necessities into a single suitcase and a duffel that belongs to Daya. She doesn't need to take both her tablet and her laptop, so Kala opts to keep her tablet as it has the most current of her research and is more portable. She shuts it off completely; puts it in her carry-on with the charger. 

She uploads information from her laptop onto two flash drives, and Nomi takes over to quickly remove the hard drive, extract the platters and destroy them: Kala may have used company software to run samples, but the underlying research data, the material retrieved from Metzger's computer, are on her laptop. Kala's phone is the next casualty in ensuring she's neither traceable nor providing inadvertently useful information. There's not much value in the phone, but certainly photos of her family and scenes from Berlin, including photos of Wolfgang. Who's presumed dead. The SIM card is removed and the phone destroyed. Daya is given the pieces of both devices to discard with the restaurant garbage. 

By 10:15 PM, Kala is ready to leave when a large well-dressed foreigner arrives at the back of the restaurant, through the entrance leading to the garden. Yeruslan will drive her to the hotel and return to keep an eye on her family. After all of Wolfgang's warnings, Kala had been more than surprised to learn that the Tatar could be so trusted, but Wolfgang had only frowned and told her that Felix will be there later, too. 

Kala introduces Yeruslan to her father. She channels Wolfgang's rusty-but-functional Russian to give brief instructions and to thank him. It turns out Yeruslan speaks some English, so communication is not impossible without her. She says goodbye to her family and leaves with the Tatar through the back entrance. 

There's a large black rental car waiting for them, and someone not known to Kala sits in the driver's seat. Yeruslan puts her luggage in the trunk and gets in the car beside her in the back seat as the car begins to move. 

“Are you Wolfgang or Kala?” he asks casually in English.  Kala looks at him cautiously.  

“Kala.”

The Tatar reaches into his pocket and removes a pistol, handle up, to give to her.  He smirks a little at her startled look. 

“I'm just being curious,” he says with a shrug. “This is for you. You should have it. Just in case.”

Kala shakes her head emphatically, visions of Wolfgang and his uncle suddenly chase each other in her memory.  She feels ill.  Again. “I don't know that I can even touch it.” 

He looks at her keenly in the darkness of the car. “How are you to protect yourself?” he asks.

She looks him steadily in the eyes. “I'll have help when it's needed. I don't need the gun.”

He pauses as if to say something else and shrugs again, settling into his seat. He puts the gun back in his coat pocket.

Twenty minutes later, Yeruslan is on his way back to her father's restaurant, and Kala checks into the hotel, finds herself in a room very similar to the one she stayed in with Wolfgang for their “honeymoon”.  It is on a lower floor but still overlooks the crescent shoreline.  There's a large vase of fresh red roses on the desk. She smiles a little wistfully: Wolfgang's attempt to allay her fears and distract her. 

She is exhausted but adrenaline is coursing through her. She sits on the bed, gets up, sits back down. 

Sun chuckles from the window, admiring the view. “You've woken me up, but this is stunning,” she says.

“Yes!” Capheus appears beside her, his ready smile a welcome sight. “Mumbai is beautiful at night.”  They're both silent for a moment, aware of why they are drawn there. They turn back to look at Kala, who smiles back at them. 

“Are you ok?” asks Sun.

Kala nods, gets up to join them by the window. “As well as can be expected.” 

An arm wraps around her, hugs her. She smiles up at Lito. He presses his chin to the top of her head. “Make your way to Mexico,” he tells her. “I can hide you, and Will and Riley.”

“All of us?” Nomi asks from the bed Kala had vacated. She looks over at Kala, who shrugs back. “They know we share a birthday. They already have some data on Capheus and Riley and Wolfgang. It won't be long before they find the rest of us. You too.”

Lito smiles and shakes his head. “I was born at home in the middle of a television drama,” he says. “My birth record is incorrect. It says August 9.  My mother is the only one who knows I was born on August 8, but no one listened to her. Everyone argues it was a different date because they debate which episode I was born on.” He gives a shrug. “And I shaved 3 years from my age when I started working in Mexico City.” 

Nomi laughs at this confession, says that it's _brilliant_. 

But her expression suddenly turns serious, and they leave the twinkling view of the window to stand over her computer in a spartan apartment in San Francisco, where it's morning and Neets has just left to go to work. 

The screens show images from cameras at terminal 2 of Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport. The flight from Iceland, stopping in Dubai, was delayed by 13 minutes. Nomi starts a little when she sees the passengers streaming through the concourse, gives a little huff and points to a white haired man, beard, mustache: “Folks,” she says _sotto voce_ , “Whispers is in Mumbai.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Fannishfrenzyluff for pointing out travel difficulties :) 
> 
> And THANK YOU to @franklyineedcoffee for correcting the Google Hindi:-). I feel so much better now! ;-)
> 
>  
> 
> As always, comments are much appreciated. Thanks for reading!


	24. Volley

The airport camera shows Whispers speaking to a security guard. He points to two men queued with him at Customs and Immigration, and the three are taken out of line; disappear from camera view. 

The cameras are in Mumbai's Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport, but Kala watches from an apartment in San Francisco.  She stares intently at the screen: waits for the men to reemerge as she stands over Nomi's shoulder, between Lito and Capheus. They are all in Nomi's spartan flat, gathered around Nomi and two large monitors sitting on a long table. The interior view from the airport cameras are on the first monitor; the second is dedicated to the streets and roads exiting the airport. The images are a little grainy but surprisingly clear; Kala can see what Whispers looks like, and more importantly, his companions: She can't look at Whispers directly in real life, but if she recognizes who's with him, she'll know to be on guard should their paths cross.

After a minute, the men reappear on another screen, escorted to an area off-limits to non employees, and Nomi scrambles quickly to plug into the feeds. They watch as Whispers and his men are led into a private office. 

“What do you think he's doing?” Kala’s eyes never leave the monitor, waits impatiently for him to come out. 

Nomi shakes her head. “Probably feeding some official his line of shit so they can just swoop in.” 

“Look here.”  Capheus points to a screen on the second monitor, with the views from the airport exits.  A large black van pulls up and sits quietly behind a few taxis outside of Terminal 2. It's a little beaten, seems larger than another van pulled up behind it. “That's an old ambulance, repainted,” Capheus says firmly. “That company has ambulances in Nairobi, too. The body look very similar.”

“Fuck.” Nomi tries to zoom in a little but can't, although they can see two men sitting in the cab. “Guess you were right to leave right away.” 

“We need to warn my family. We should tell Yeruslan.”  Kala sounds surprisingly steady, although she can feel her heart racing. She closes her eyes for a moment, willing calm. She feels a hand rubbing the back of her neck and gives a sigh, opens her eyes to Wolfgang's blue gaze. He stands by the window, watches her carefully, his brows furrowed. She can hear movement in the bathroom and knows Felix is back.

“Whispers is here,” she says a little breathlessly. Kala stops, smiles a little at the confused nature of that sentence when she's with Wolfgang in Berlin. “He's in Mumbai. He has two other men with him, and Capheus noticed a painted ambulance waiting outside with two more men inside. They are definitely going to my parents tonight.”

Wolfgang nods, watches her catch her lower lip in a distracted manner. “I'll call the Tatar, tell him,” he says. Kala nods, relieved. “Wolfgang.” She pauses, looks at him anxiously. “Can you call my father and tell him, too? Do you have a disposable phone?”

“No.” He gives her a half smile, shows her his other hand, which holds the smartphone. “But I suspect I have something just as good.” The phone from Viktor won't be traced to him, and he can certainly use it once to call Kala's father.  

Kala breathes a sigh of relief, leans in to kiss him softly.  “Thank you,” she says. She gives him her father's cellphone number, includes the international codes that she memorized while she was in Berlin. She touches his face. “Tell him you're the German,” she says, and is gone before Felix emerges, freshly showered, from the bath. 

The phone rings several times before a tentative male voice answers “hello” on the other end of the line. 

“Mr. Dandekar,” Wolfgang says evenly. “Kala asked that I call and warn you that the men she's told you about are coming tonight. They're on their way.” It takes Wolfgang a moment - in the silence that falls right after he stops talking, by the amazed expression on Felix's face - before he realizes he's speaking to Sanyam Dandekar in Hindi. “Yeruslan is coming back. He's there to help.”

“Who is this?” Sanyam finally asks, cautiously. 

“This is Wolfgang.” He can't help smirking at the absurdity - he can't believe _this_ is the first conversation he has with Kala's father- before he remembers to add: “I'm the German.”

There's another moment of silence. “Ah,” Sanyam finally says. “I see. Well. Thank you. Thank you for calling.” Wolfgang doesn't hang up right away, can sense a hesitation in the older man and waits through another pause. “Is there anything else..?” he finally prompts. 

“Just,” Sanyam says quietly,“take care of her. Please.”

There is a note in Sanyam’s voice that stops Wolfgang; makes his gut twist at the vulnerability. And he understands it; he fucking gets it. “I will,” he promises. “I will.”

He hangs up, pauses for a moment before he calls Yeruslan. 

…

Nomi has reconfigured the monitors to display the street camera feeds. Whispers and the two men leave the airport and get inside a gray sedan that pulls away with the large black van trailing behind.  The vehicles head north, then west; Kala's home is 20 minutes away, even with traffic lighter at this hour in the evening. She clutches Lito's hand so hard that he gently eases her grip and wiggles his fingers to make sure the circulation still flows. 

In 15 minutes, there are no more cameras to watch from. 

“I looked,” apologizes Nomi. “No one's set up any CCTV feeds near the restaurant.”

“At least they know.” Kala touches Nomi's shoulder, squeezes gratefully. “The Tatar wil be there. He won't let my family be bullied.” She says this with utter conviction, and no one wants to question her logic for doing so. 

“And now we wait until the cars reappear?” Sun is oddly disquieted, paces behind them and they all feel the ripple of her nicotine craving. It's because of the not- knowing; the feeling of helplessness at events occurring that one can't stop. For a moment, they're all carried with her to the darkness of her cell, where she quietly walks the perimeter without disturbing her cellmates before she stops abruptly: an iron discipline quelling her fire and pushing it into her fists, clenched tightly to her sides. 

And then they're all back in Nomi's apartment. Except Sun.

They all keep vigil with Kala, eyes watching the monitors carefully to make sure they don't miss the gray sedan and repainted black ambulance. It is another 20 minutes before the vehicles reappear, backtracking on the same streets they'd used. Kala lets out a strangled sound, and it isn't until several minutes before one of the cameras picks up the people in the sedan. There are 3: Whispers and his two men. 

“They look very, very angry,” says Capheus gleefully. 

“He's been trying to reach Will all day, too.”

Riley stands where Sun had been, just a little behind Nomi. Her face is drawn, tired, but she smiles a little at Kala. “Will could feel his presence, has been feeling Whispers push, push push. But your med has held up. Thank god.”  

“How is he?” asks Kala.

Riley laughs. “Pissed,” she says. “Will says it's like a migraine that won't go away, only he knows it's Whispers. But that only makes him want to get back even more.” Her voice drops excitedly. “He's been working with Diego, and we think we can find the footage showing Whispers taking Angelica’s body.” 

“Guys, guys!” Capheus points back to the monitor.  “Who's this? There's another car. It's a little behind the others, but it is following Whispers.”

Kala turns her attention back to the monitor, peers at the screens and waits for the vehicles to reemerge at the next camera. She watches the gray sedan and then the painted ambulance drive through.  Two more cars follow before Capheus points. “That one. It's been following for awhile.”

The black rental car that had taken Kala to the hotel comes into view, and she sees the driver that had taken her and Yeruslan. He seems to be alone, although it's difficult to tell if anyone is in the back seat. 

“That's Viktor's man,” she says. 

“Do you think he's with them?” Nomi frowns at the monitor, watches as the cars turn a corner and follows along with the cameras. 

“No.” Lito shakes his head. “He's keeping at least two cars between them, and he's careful to be precisely behind a vehicle so he won't be seen.  Good driver.” 

“Did you learn that filming ‘ _Sin Piedad_ ’?"   _Without Mercy._

Lito looks at Capheus in surprise. “You've seen it?” he asks. 

“Yes!” Capheus smiles at him. “When I learned a famous actor is part of my herd, I had to find your movies.You were fantastic! That car chase was _amazing_!"

Lito preens a little, is flattered by the praise.

“Well they're heading downtown, and Kala is too close.” Nomi tracks the camera feeds and watches as the cars clearly head in that direction. “it's going to take me a few days to get your visa in order, and I hate that he can be combing the area for you while you sit here and wait to be found.”  She turns to Riley abruptly. “Do you know anyone in India? Someone who wouldn't mind harboring a couple of biological oddities?”

Riley thinks for a moment before her face clears. “Yes!” she says. "I was in Goa for the Sunburn Festival a few years ago. I didn't really know anyone, but there were a few expats who kind of took me in. I know one of them still lives there. I just heard from him this summer, before..." Riley doesn't need to remind them of London, of Nyx and the DMT. "His name is Jude. He's Finnish, but he speaks English and a little Konkani. He lives in northern Goa. He's kind of in a commune,” she says carefully. “He'd be off the grid if it weren't for the music. He'll take you in, no questions asked.”

Kala sees a memory shared by Riley: a large man, blond hair in short dreads, scruffy but not unattractive. She knows with sudden clarity that Riley had a relationship with him; he looked a little like her husband. Riley flushes under Kala's sympathetic eyes. 

Nomi is unenthused. “Guess we don't have much of a choice,” she says reluctantly. 

They watch as the sedan and painted ambulance make their way to a hotel not 2 kilometres from where Kala stays, disappear into parking lots.  The black rental drives slowly by once, then twice, then leaves. 

“Show's over for now.” Nomi looks around. “I'll keep an eye out and let you know if anything is up, but you-” She looks sternly at Kala “should go back and get some rest.  You'll need it before you go on the run.”

 _Like me. Like Riley. Like Will_.

Kala nods, chest swelling with gratitude at the Cluster's support. 

She is back, alone, in the hotel room in Mumbai; undresses and readies for bed, waiting for Wolfgang, whom she can't reach. She tries to sleep, keeps waking herself. 

“What happened? Have you heard?” She is taut with nerves when he finally appears. It's nearly 3 am in Mumbai. She thinks she must have dozed again because she doesn't remember him coming to bed; he's simply there. 

“Yes.” He smiles softly at her. “I would have come sooner but I had to wait to hear from the Tatar. And I spoke to your father again.”

“You spoke to my father?” Kala stops herself from crying in relief.  “What happened? Are they ok?”

“Yes, yes.” She looks strained, brittle. Wolfgang draws her into his arms, holds her and kisses the top of her head until some of her stiffness recedes as he tells her what her father and Yeruslan told him.

...

Yeruslan arrives through the back entrance, like before. The restaurant is long closed, but Sanyam is waiting for him and lets him inside. Sanyam makes the Tatar some plain black tea and goes in the kitchen to make him something to eat (Kala chuckles a little: _of course_ her father would have insisted). Whispers arrives while Sanyam cooks. Yeruslan answers the door, his large foreign presence a source of initial confusion before Matheson reasserts himself, says he's Dr. Friedman with the World Health Organization. He asks for Kala because it's come to his attention that she may have been exposed to some toxic strain of something or other at work. He's flown in personally to oversee her treatment. By then, Sanyam is out of the kitchen, tells them it's ridiculous, and asks for identification. Matheson produces some official-looking document, hands it to Sanyam and tries to force his way in. But Yeruslan blocks him and tells him he can't come in. The two men with Whispers are hunters; they move to force their way when the distinct click of a gun cocking is heard, and Yeruslan reaches over to tug at the collar of his expensive Italian shirt, exposes an eight-point star tattooed on his left shoulder. He tells them Kala isn't there and they should go. The _Bratva_ tattoo stops Whispers and his men. They exchange some words, but eventually leave without further incident. Yeruslan is staying the night, in the restaurant, until it opens in the morning. 

...

Kala lies completely relaxed in Wolfgang's arms. He suspects she's fallen asleep until she murmurs that they'll be back; they'll break in and go through her things, like they did with Nomi.

“Yes,” he agrees, grimly. " _Die verdammten Arschlöcher_.” The fucking assholes. “They probably will.” 

“They won't find anything. I've destroyed it.” She's barely coherent, snuggles closer against him. 

He smiles against her hair, tells her that was a good idea, that he and Felix will be there soon, that he and his family (how odd that sounds) have an idea. 

But she's fallen asleep before he can tell her. 

Wolfgang settles himself more comfortably; is still holding her when he falls asleep himself. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to KinoGlowWorm for sharing backstory and once again checking for loose thread :-)
> 
> Thanks to Scaredofuhlek for providing some choice German cursing. Next time I'm asking for body parts ;-)
> 
> And thanks for continuing to give Comments and reading while we wait for Season 2! (Which is supposedly filming in several new locations, including Amsterdam this summer...)


	25. India

 

 

Felix oohs-and-ahhs over the first class seats for probably a good five minutes, awed by the individual sleeping cots and personal monitors. "This must have cost a _fucking fortune_ ," he whispers, acutely aware of his bourgeois giddiness as the 7 other first class passengers take their seats.

It did, but Wolfgang only smiles and shrugs. "May as well be comfortable," he says. "You sure you're gonna be ok?" Wolfgang is sitting in the business class; he was only allowed inside to assist Felix.

Felix gives him a shit-eating grin and kicks back with an exaggerated stretch. Wolfgang just chuckles. "Come visit the commoners in business class if you get bored or lonely," he says, patting Felix on the shoulder as he gets up to take his own seat.

"Not me. I'm sleeping until Mumbai."

Wolfgang only smiles. It's 5:40 AM and he's exhausted too, having left Kala less than an hour ago. She was sleeping deeply and hadn't stirred once since falling asleep in his arms. He'd only woken up because the alarm on his smartphone was making an annoying high-pitched sound that dragged him awake in Berlin. Felix was already dressed.

Business class isn't particularly crowded; Wolfgang has the row to himself and sits in the aisle seat, although he's joined by Capheus as the plane takes off, surprising Wolfgang. Of all the Cluster, Wolfgang knows the least about Capheus, although Kala is close to him. The only commonality is in their questionable "business ventures".

"I love to fly," Capheus says, looking out the window and flashing a grin at Wolfgang. "Usually, I'm driving my matatu on the same route, down the same streets, or, like today, taking Amondi to her doctors. All on the ground. So earth-bound. But one day I will fly."

Wolfgang smiles back. "I'm sure you will," he says.

Capheus leans forward. He watches the city disappear under the clouds as he continues: "Nomi asked me to tell you what she's found, and she thought Kala was so tired you might not know about Goa."

"Goa?" repeats Wolfgang.

Capheus tells him about Riley's friend: that Whispers and his men are in a hotel not far from where Kala is staying, and Nomi has not been able to hack into government servers to get Kala visas. "Nomi wants more than one or two countries; she needs to keep Whispers guessing where Kala will be, but she was almost caught herself just the other day, and is staying in a friend's flat. She says she has to start over again."

Wolfgang nods grimly. In the drama surrounding Kala and himself, he almost forgets that the others are in tenuous positions as well.

"And today," says Capheus, "Nomi found out we have yet another problem: Last night, Kala was added to a watch list so she can't fly out of India; Kala doesn't know yet. Nomi will need to take care of that too."

" _Scheisse_."

Wolfgang looks over at Capheus and frowns. "I think if we need it we can get some help in Mumbai," he says cautiously. "And maybe some help against BPO itself."

Capheus looks at him curiously before the thought occurs to him: "Your family?" he asks.

Wolfgang nods. "Yes. They know people interested in stopping the hunters. My aunt is meeting with them. Along with Viktor. They will tell me afterward."

Capheus is curious, but feels Wolfgang's reluctance to say more. He nods. "Good."

They sit in silence for a few moments, Capheus watching the clouds before he speaks again, his tone thoughtful. "Are you afraid at all?"

Wolfgang tilts his head, his brows furrowed. "Of BPO?"

Capheus shrugs, gestures. "I guess...All of this."

Wolfgang leans back against his seat, looks past Capheus to the sky beyond. "Not for me," he says quietly.

Capheus smiles a little. "Me as well," he agrees. He sighs and shakes his head. "One day, we will have no enemies."

Wolfgang chuckles softly. "Because we will crush them, see them driven before us."

"And hear the lamentations of their women," finishes Capheus.

Wolfgang grins."You know that movie?" he asks.

Capheus smiles. "Arnold is my second favorite actor."

Wolfgang chuckles, feeling suddenly lighter. "You should meet Felix," he says, sharing memories; a childhood survived together.

Capheus' grin gets impossibly wider. "He's like Jela," he says. Wolfgang sees a thinner man, eager, loyal: He would die for Capheus. And Wolfgang gives a soft smile. "Yes. Just like that."

Capheus nods, pleased. "It's good to have friends like that," he says. "And now, there are 7 more. Just like that. Just like Jela. Just like Felix."

"Yes." _But none quite like Felix,_ thinks Wolfgang; and Capheus looks back at him as if he had said so aloud...and smiles. _None quite like Jela,_ either.

…

The plane lands in Munich for a brief layover, and Wolfgang and Felix get off the plane to walk around before the long leg of their flight begins. Wolfgang asks Felix to stay in Mumbai and watch Kala's family until they know Whispers is gone: He tells Felix that he's going with Kala to Goa until Nomi can arrange for them all to leave the country; Whispers is in a nearby hotel. Felix agrees reluctantly. "But if there's any sign of trouble for you, I'm coming to Goa." It's a statement more than a question.

"Of course."

They head back to the terminal, reboarding before the new passengers in Munich. Wolfgang walks Felix back to his seat before returning to his own.

He finds he's no longer alone in his row: A woman carrying a laptop and tote arrives to sit in the window seat. Wolfgang gives a polite nod as she moves past him; he settles back and closes his eyes, feigns sleep as he visits with Riley to get information about her friend and the commune in Goa.

He doesn't visit long because the flight attendant talks to him, asks him what he chooses for lunch. Wolfgang makes a perfunctory selection, annoyed and a little disoriented by the abrupt interruption. The woman next to him orders the same thing, and when the flight attendant moves on, she leans over and tells him she's starving and skipped breakfast to make the flight. She's talkative and engages him through lunch while she works, despite his abbreviated answers. Wolfgang eventually makes his excuses and extends his seat to a near horizontal position to nap.

It's not a ruse: Wolfgang sleeps through the rest of the flight, waking after supper is already served. The flight attendant asks him if he'd still like to eat. He nods, surprised that he's actually hungry. He stretches and his neighbor tells him she tried to wake him but he didn't stir.

"I think she's flirting with you, _Mera Pyaara."_

Wolfgang smiles sleepily at Kala, sitting to the other side of him in the aisle. "She's not," he murmurs discreetly to her, turning his back against the woman and stretching his arm out to brush his fingers against Kala's cheek.

Kala arches an eyebrow but turns her face into his hand. He's in her hotel room where she's sitting in a chair facing the window, her legs curled under her. "I heard about Riley's friend; that we'll need to stay in Goa for awhile," he says, waves away her apologies for forgetting. "It's ok, _Schatz_. How have you been?"

She sighs, looks out at the city lights. "Anxious," she admits. "I haven't left the hotel. I've eaten in my room. The only thing I've done all day is buy a bathing suit in one of the shops and go for a swim in the pool." She smiles a little at him, and he realizes that doing so is unusual for her; that swimming has never before been soothing. "I wish I knew what was happening with my family."

"When I land I'll call the Tatar," he tells her, stroking her hair. "Soon." She nods her head as he's pulled away again by the flight attendant who delivers his late dinner.

. . .

When the plane lands, Felix is already waiting for him, smiling widely. "I can't believe we're actually here!" he says. "This is fucking _awesome_!"

Wolfgang grins back, steers them both to Customs and Immigration. Felix slept through most of the flight, although he was awake enough to talk to the man sitting across from him and to flirt with the flight attendant. Felix's conversation is interspersed by periodic bursts of appreciation for the stunning architecture of the Mumbai airport.

Wolfgang turns his smartphone on but doesn't see any messages from Viktor or Tyotya Anna. Instead, as he arrives at the baggage claim, he spots a large man in a suit who heads purposefully towards them.

"Welcome back to Mumbai," says Yeruslan.

…

Kala is waiting for him - for them- when they arrive at the hotel. Wolfgang can feel her as he stands at registration, directing the porter to take up the luggage to Felix's room. Felix has just finished checking in.

Wolfgang looks around quickly, a little panicked, makes sure no one of concern is in the lobby. When he turns back, he sees her greeting Felix with a warm hug. Wolfgang holds on to his duffel and waits for the porter to leave before he walks to where Felix and Kala stand, a little off to the side of the registration desk.

It doesn't matter how often they visit: Wolfgang doesn't think he'll ever truly get used to seeing Kala in person. She is much more vivid in real life; and until that moment he hasn't acknowledged how terrified he's truly been for her. He knows he's glowering fiercely, even when she sees him and lights up even brighter, but she's everything to him, and the weight of that feeling both terrifies and elates him.

Wolfgang stops just in front of her and can't seem to think of what to say first. But Kala smiles, touches his face and says his name with a hint of laughter- she is so happy to see him, and it's so typical that he only scowls back - that his lips quirk, a faint smile escapes.

" _Schatz_ ," he sighs. He bends down to kiss her gently, pulls back to touch their foreheads together and return her hug.

"Let's go settle Felix in," Wolfgang suggests, one arm around Kala, the other carrying his duffel bag.

Felix gives an indignant huff. "I'm not helpless," he complains."You two go on." He looks meaningfully at Wolfgang. "My things?"

"In here." Wolfgang holds up the duffel. "I'll bring them in the morning." Felix nods, walks with them to the elevator where they speak quietly in German, tell her that they've seen Yeruslan, and Whispers hasn't returned. Felix tells her that he's going to personally keep an eye on her family and let her know how they are. No one mentions Goa. Felix gets off on the floor just below them.

Kala rests her head lightly on Wolfgang's shoulder, holds his free hand. It feels like Berlin, like Mumbai on their _Flitterwochen_ : the touching, the anticipation, the indescribable feeling of being physically together again.

Kala leads him to the suite near the end of the hall. There's a patience about her that Wolfgang finds a little puzzling when all he can think about is what they'll do when they walk into the room, but she turns her head and fixes him with a look and he gapes after her.

She swipes her keycard and opens the door to their suite. It's dimly lit and smells of fresh roses, but if their room had been a tired old _Scheissloch_ stinking of dung, Wolfgang never would have noticed. He's mesmerized by dark brown eyes that look up at him with an expression so soft that his mind stutters over itself. He puts the duffel down carefully by the door and reaches for Kala, his body humming with the physical contact. He buries a hand in Kala's hair, tilts her head up and kisses her fiercely.

He murmurs words in Hindi and German; she murmurs back and makes breathless noises that urge him on. They're unbuttoning jeans, tugging frantically at shirts: Kala laughs when he curses at not finding her bra clasp in the back; sucks in her breath when his fingers deftly find it in front and his hands cup her breasts.

 _Wolfgang_. She doesn't know if she says it out loud or thinks it, but the urgency is palpable as she hooks a finger along the top of his jeans, deliberately pads her thumb along his erection, and drags him willingly to bed. They stop kissing only long enough to finish removing clothes.

Wolfgang buries himself in the taste and the smell of her, both sensations so much more than when they merely visit. She gasps and writhes under his mouth, lets out a low, guttural moan at each swipe of his tongue, clutches the bed sheets, his shoulders. He moans with her, the ripple of her pleasure echoing in him, making him just as frantic.

It's both familiar and new, and it doesn't take them long before they're deep in each other, bodies and sensations so intermingled they neither know nor care. They only care that they're finally reunited. 

...

Kala lies on top of Wolfgang and feels him plant a kiss on her forehead. She laughs a little when she thinks how desperate the lovemaking has been, but suddenly sobers, raises herself on Wolfgang's chest, traces his jaw. "I know it is selfish of me," she says quietly. "But I'm so glad you're here, _Mera Jaan."_

He can sense her guilt and her relief; he holds her tightly, coasts his hands down her back. "I know," he says, his eyes smile at her. "But you couldn't keep me away, _Schatz_."

She gives him a faint smile. "When do we leave for Goa?"

"Tomorrow." He looks over at the clock on the nightstand, amends: "In a few hours."

She closes her eyes and rests her head back on his chest. "I'm glad you're really here," she repeats.

"Me too." He kisses the top of her head again, runs a lazy hand over her hips and bottom.

In the daylight, he'll give Felix his weapon, divvy up the ammo Yeruslan gave them, help Kala pack up what little she's unpacked since yesterday. Although he hadn't visited long, Riley shared her memory of Goa, arriving by bus. Wolfgang suspects Kala has her own ideas on how to reach Jude.

Then he'll tell her about Tyotya Anna.

He closes his eyes and sleeps.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't seen them, check out the bts pics of Season 2: They provide much needed inspiration:-)
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> And as always, comments are much appreciated!


	26. Road to Goa

Early in the morning, Wolfgang goes to Felix's suite with the duffel bag and gives him one of the two Jerichos. The pistols look new, but Wolfgang points out caustically that they got them from _Bratva_ , so they sit down by the coffee table, disassemble the guns to scrub them out: Wolfgang had already thought to bring the few tools they need to do so, packing them in with his checked-in suitcase.  

It doesn't take Wolfgang long to pull apart his weapon; he's done this before. He helps Felix with the springs before any pop out and do any damage. 

“I haven't shot a gun in forever,” says Felix, laying out the pieces and going through them. He winces,  side-eyes Wolfgang. They haven't talked about the events at Sergei's house; at least not since Felix has been awake. Wolfgang’s jaw clenches.  He's already reassembling his gun, places the extractor pin in its slide, taps the spring in the channel and rocks it a little. He only says: “You'll remember.” 

Putting the guns back together takes longer, but the Jerichos are pretty clean and the parts fit neatly back into place without much struggle. When they finish, Felix and Wolfgang divide the ammo: Felix loads up the magazine and inserts it into his pistol, impressed. He holds it firmly, safety on, feels the weight. It's nicer than anything he's ever had before, not that Felix is a weapons guy; he owns a couple of handguns that he's carried, but he's never actually shot at anyone. Or anything, really: When they were younger and Anton was gone and Wolfgang unattended, they'd messed around with Anton's pistols, targeting inanimate objects in vacant lots. Wolfgang frowns a little. Even then he fantasized about turning a gun on his father. Or himself. It made no difference at the time. 

He tries out his own weapon, comments absently, shakes off a vague feeling of depression. Felix's room permits smoking, and he reaches for the pack of cigarettes and matches he'd thrown in the duffel, offers one to Felix before he lights up. 

They discuss what Felix will do, where he'll go, how they'll communicate with each other.  Felix will meet the Tatar at the restaurant, introduce himself to Kala's family. The Tatar can be dismissed whenever Felix wants: Yeruslan is more or less finished with what he came to do before Whispers arrived and is only waiting for more orders from Viktor or Viktor's father, Alexander. 

Felix thinks through different scenarios: asks if he should stay if Whispers is still here but Wolfgang and Kala are cleared to leave, or if Whispers is gone but Kala is still stuck; he asks who to contact in case of an emergency. For all his excitability, Felix is a different person when he's on a job: focused; serious. He likes a well-thought-out plan and always complains that Wolfgang is too casual. It drives him fucking crazy. They agree that Felix will stay and keep an eye on the Dandekars until Whispers is gone from India, and if that happens before Kala can leave, Felix will go to Goa.  As for contacts, a quick request for help and Lito, having a quiet evening with Hernando and Daniella, volunteers his cellphone number, which Wolfgang gives to Felix. 

“When are you guys leaving for Goa?” he asks,as Wolfgang puts out his cigarette in the ashtray, takes his tools, the ammo and gun, and packs them back into the duffel bag. 

“When Nomi gives us the all-clear that Whispers is gone for at least the morning.”  Wolfgang picks up the bag and gets up, walks to the door.  He looks around Felix's room. “You can stay here as long as you want. Hotel has my card. Stay here during the day, maybe head to the restaurant at night? You've got a rental car available to you if you want. Here: take the keys.” He tosses a set at  Felix, who catches them deftly. 

“These from the Russian?” Felix looks confused; he can't recall when Wolfgang would have had the opportunity to get a rental. “They're for you.”

“Kala already has one,” says Wolfgang with a faint smile. Apparently over Kala's objections, Nomi hacked into a commercial system and rented a car with a stolen card. It was easier than hacking a government system to make up some visa approvals. Or to get off a watch list. Kala had not been pleased to hear that, either.  

Felix smiles. “Awesome.” He smiles wider when he notices he's driving a luxury car, and gets up to walk to the door. “I think I'll go to the restaurant when it opens, not at night: I'm thinking if I'm trying to break in, I'll do it in the day, when everyone is away or distracted with the restaurant. No one is upstairs.” Wolfgang nods, pretty confident that Felix will figure out what's best; he's cased enough places. “Well... _Viel Glück_ ,” _Good luck_ , says Felix, facing Wolfgang. “I'll see you back at the airport, I guess.”

“Thanks,” says Wolfgang. “Good luck to you, too.” He smiles a little apologetically. “You bought those nice clothes to play bodyguard. Sorry.”

Felix smiles back. “Just like the Tatar, right?” He gets a mischievous expression on his face. “I'm gonna make like I'm Bratva. There's German Bratva.”

Wolfgang shakes his head, draws Felix to him in a tight hug. “ _Don't_ ,” he tells him. “ _Bitte sei vorsichtig_.” _Take care_. 

“You too.” Felix returns the embrace, slaps Wolfgang on the back reassuringly and sends him out. “I've got her family. You take care of Kala. And yourself.”

Wolfgang smiles back at him, lets himself get shoved out the door. It's almost like having the old Felix back. 

Wolfgang unwraps a mint chewing gum and pops it in his mouth although he's sure Kala can taste the faintly acrid cigarette anyway. 

He'd woken her to tell her where he was going, but he wouldn't be surprised to find her sleeping still. 

When he reaches their suite he lets himself in, puts the duffel down by the door. He finds her in prayer by the window, kneeling in front of the small statue of Ganesha she'd brought with her to Berlin. She's already showered and dressed in capris and a gauzy tank top, her hair gathered up in a high, loose bun appropriate for the heat. He watches her quietly, notices a single bead of perspiration trailing down the long line of her exposed nape, disappear down her spine. He gives a faint smirk, decides he should probably shower so they're ready to leave as soon as Nomi tells them. 

…

Jude lives on the edge of Anjuna in northern Goa. Kala has never been there, although she's been to Goa; Anjuna seemed a notorious destination for ex-pat hippie Europeans. She hopes Riley is correct that Jude will take her and Wolfgang in for a little while. 

She finishes prayer to Ganesha, remover of obstacles, and wraps the statue carefully in a piece of cloth, packs it away with her other things. Her single suitcase of clothes and shoes and one beloved idol stands by the window, a carry on with her tablet and flash drive and notes from work in the other bag. She's had plenty of time to think of work and what she's found and it is beyond frustrating that she can't explore the rest of the information. 

Kala sits down on the edge of the bed and glances over at the bathroom when she hears the shower turn off, faint rustling noises coming from inside. She hasn't even had a chance to tell Riley or Capheus, let alone Wolfgang, about the notes she's found from the spreadsheets at work. She worries how Wolfgang will react, frets that he'll retreat into himself again; fears that his rage will return. 

She's startled when Wolfgang opens the door and looks at her quizzically, wiping his mouth with a wash cloth, white hotel towel slung low around his hips. 

“What's wrong, Kala?” 

He can feel her worry. Kala frowns and taps down her tension. “I'm anxious to go,” she says instead, standing up. She fights the urge to pace and after a pause walks to Wolfgang. “I'm all ready.”

“We need to wait,” he reminds her, looking at her closely, clearly not believing her but unwilling to push when she looks strained. 

Kala nods in agreement, smiles suddenly when she moves closer to bracket his hips with her hands. “Since when have you taken to being modest and wearing a towel?” 

Wolfgang pretends to look offended. “It's not about nudity,” he tells her. “It's about privacy and decency.”

Kala laughs. She thinks there's something very sexy about him in just a towel, and he seems to know and gives her that look right before he bends his head to kiss her. 

“Oh kids, _don't_.”

Kala draws away, startled. Wolfgang gives a frustrated grunt. 

Nomi looks at Kala. “Matheson just left with his entourage. They don't seem to be heading to your parents, so now is the time to go.”

…

The rental car is with a company operating in their hotel, reserved under Kala Berner with the stolen credit card info. Once Kala is on the road, Nomi will crash the system to delete any record of the rental. It may take 10 hours to get there, likely longer, but the goal is to reach Anjuna without stopping in any area where they can be traced. Whispers and BPO have proven themselves too resourceful in hunting. 

They check out of the hotel and go to the parking garage. The car is a new SUV with off-road capability, perfect for taking a scenic route south: Kala already has the directions on her pad. Wolfgang puts their things in the back, eyes the SUV appreciatively.  “Want me to drive it, _Schatzi_?”

Kala raises her eyebrow, shakes her head. “No, thank you,” she says politely, waving him to the passenger side. “I'm committing the crime, I may as well enjoy it.” Wolfgang chuckles.

…

Under different circumstances, it would have been a beautiful and romantic drive. 

Once they get out of the city. 

Wolfgang white-knuckles his way as Kala drives on the Sion-Panvel, deftly maneuvering through cars that jump traffic signs and inconsistently marked lanes. She's unflappable in the face of mass anarchy. He glances over at her and she meets his gaze, and he shakes his head, smiles at how much she seems to be enjoying his discomfort. 

They get on the expressway where the traffic is much more orderly, and Wolfgang is visibly relieved. He enjoys the difference as a passenger, not a driver, and remarks on the scenery, chuckles that he sounds like Felix, slack-jawed at palm trees and architecture. He catches a nap and wakes when Kala stops to fill the tank and grabs lunch for them from one of the many shops along the way. They eat in the car as Kala drives, aware that their destination is still several hours away. 

Wolfgang doesn't want to talk about himself or bring up why they're leaving Mumbai instead of meeting with her family. He remembers the sound of her father's voice, can feel the weight of his charge to take care of Kala, and Wolfgang reaches over to cover her hand -resting lightly on the gear shift- with his own. She smiles at him.  

So they continue to talk about driving. Kala tells him she had use of her aunt's car while she was away at university; she drove everywhere until she graduated. A car in Mumbai isn't really necessary. She misses it, and thinks she'd like to get a new car one day. At his prompting, she tells Wolfgang about her university life. It was probably more focused and uneventful than a typical college experience, but she manages to entertain him with anecdotes. He smiles a lot, relaxed. 

They get to the MSH4 and the coastal view is breathtaking. Kala has driven for hours and Wolfgang takes over with her blessing. They change seats; she laces their fingers together once he settles his hand back on the gear shift.

She watches his profile, looks out at the sea. It will be very late by the time they get to Anjuna; maybe just before midnight. 

“Tired?” 

Kala yawns. “Yes.” She looks back at him. “You too.” He kisses her hand but doesn't answer. His expression is focused. He will get them to Anjuna in Goa. Today. Tonight.

Kala falls asleep. 

…

When Kala wakes up it is dusk outside and it is Capheus driving.  She stretches a little, says hello to him and looks behind her. Wolfgang is sitting in the backseat but he's not asleep. He smiles at her,  amused, and reaches to touch her cheek in greeting before he leans back into his seat. 

“When I knew you were both driving down this beautiful road, I knew I wanted to see, too.”  Capheus looks almost as pleased as when he is on a plane.  He glances back at Wolfgang. “Thank you for letting me drive!  This car is so easy compared to the Van Damn. And I love this view.  It is so beautiful.” Capheus winks at Kala.  “I've seen the ocean once before, you know, with my mother. I remember it.” His face clouds over momentarily, grows thoughtful. 

“Actually, this isn't the ocean.” Kala smiles at him. “It's the sea. You think it's the ocean because it's so vast, but this - this is just...this is the Arabian Sea.”

“Ahhh.” Capheus smiles a little. “But you know, I think I've seen the Indian Ocean. I seem to remember that; I must have been very small. Can you imagine?  But I remember my father once worked with boats, maybe on one.  And my mother took me to visit him, and I saw the ships in the water. I remember my father said it was the Indian Ocean. And now, I'm actually in India, driving along the Arabian Sea.”

Kala grows very still. “I thought your father, your family, lived in a small village.”

Capheus nods, Wolfgang looks at Kala closely. “Yes. But he left to find work, went to the city, to Nairobi, while my mother returned to her village.” Capheus smiles. “My father was a good man; I remember how excited we were when he came home, but then he left again. And my mother... they say he was killed.”

“Do you remember what he did on the boats in Nairobi?” Kala’s voice is soft.

Capheus shrugs.  “Loading,unloading. I don't know. Why?”

“Because Nairobi is on the By Product list? A port of call?” Wolfgang asks Kala. “That doesn't mean anything necessarily, _Schatz_.” 

Kala shakes her head, looks from Capheus to Wolfgang, her heart racing.

“Except that his father is on another list,” she says quietly. She looks over at Wolfgang. “Just like your mother, and Riley's.” 

And she tells them, on the road to Goa, about the data held by Limited Solutions, and her suspicion that the data had been stolen from BPO.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may not seem like it took a lot, but the research wormhole was never ending:) Please let me know if there are any errors; I'm always grateful for the input.  
> Also: KinoGlowWorm and I got into a discussion about Hindi/Marathi/Konkani. If anyone reading this thinks they can help clear things up for a couple of linguistics nerds, please feel free to check out the post here [[X]](http://gear65.tumblr.com/post/141402253745/chitpavan/embed) and message us on tumblr.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and as always, comments are much appreciated!


	27. Reaching Anjuna

They abandon MSH4 and its time-draining ferries in favor of NH 17 and a more direct but busy route. Wolfgang and Kala refuel and stop at a roadside diner- a _dhaba_ \- to get some food that they eat at a table.  There are a handful of other people there, but it is clean and reasonably out of the way and they both need to get out of the car. Neither see any cameras around.

Capheus sits with them, solemn and unsmiling. It's difficult for him to process everything she's said in the last half hour: That his father and Wolfgang's mother were test subjects, known to BPO. That charts with their parents’ information, identifying children - including his then-unborn sister- exist. That Wolfgang and Capheus were already marked by BPO. Most difficult of all is the implication that his father was a sensate, caught and killed by BPO. 

In the _dhaba_ , Wolfgang looks icy, detached.  It's hard to ignore that inside he is raging as much as Capheus is grieving. He doesn't touch the kadai chicken or the roti in front of him; just takes a long drink of the Indian beer. Kala hardly touches her tomato kurma.

“My father was a good man,” Capheus says again, as if repeating a talisman. “He was a good man.”  

Capheus’ fragmented memories bleed into Wolfgang and Kala:  His father is tall and thin and flashing a smile surely as bright and as wide as his son's. He tells crazy, funny stories; whistles as he tills a plot of land; curses in Dholuo as he chases chickens escaped from a pen.  

On the docks he is different; anxious and troubled, with eyes darting everywhere. The smell of the docks stick to his skin when he returns to Limuru: metal and fish and sweat and the salty tang of the ocean air. 

He doesn't stay at home long: Ethnic strife drives him back to the docks so his family isn't hurt. 

And then he's dead, Shiro already large with child.

Capheus looks away, excuses himself, and Kala and Wolfgang are alone, silent.

“Why do you think the data from Limited Solutions  was stolen from BPO?” Wolfgang cuts through the memories,  asks the question quietly. 

It takes Kala a moment to shake off Capheus’ grief.  She takes a breath, reaches for Wolfgang across the table and covers his balled fist with her hand. “I don't know for certain.” She shakes her head, catches her lower lip. “But I realized something yesterday, as I was going through the material Nomi had taken from Metzger."

Kala frowns in thought. "The data in the archives at work look like BPO’s: the spreadsheets, the subject lists, the raw data...But it stops 4 years ago - the archive documents at work, from Limited Solutions, stop very abruptly at some random date 4 years ago, and then they're picked up again 1 year later." She looks up, absently runs her thumb along Wolfgang's knuckles. “If that is when your Grandfather Hassan realized that there is a market for the suppressant, would he go to Brouchard to see if he could find a way to make it? Nomi thinks Brouchard supplied the suppressants to your Grandfather Hassan. It would make sense, given their ties together. But Brouchard was a financial officer, not a chemist, and you can't come up with a drug without workable data.” They'd said as much to Tyotya Anna when they had accused her of working with BPO. “What if Hassan stole the BPO data to give to Brouchard, so he could shop it around to one of his pharma connections to come up with the suppressant, eventually finding Limited Solutions, one year later? What if Brouchard is still supplying stolen information?"

"What if it's no longer stolen?" Wolfgang meets her troubled eyes, his own still harsh and angry. "Who's left to steal information for him with the Bogdanows dead?"

She's silent for a moment, but shakes her head. "They wouldn't be making suppressants if they were working with BPO," she says. 

Wolfgang takes another drink, opens his fist and catches Kala's hand, squeezes it gently, not interested in arguing the point. “I spoke to Viktor and Tyotya Anna before I left for Mumbai," he says instead. He takes a breath, watches her face carefully. “I was sent to retrieve the  'By Product' list in Amsterdam because Sergei discovered one of the purchasers of the suppressant, a client, is high up with Russian Foreign Intelligence. Hassan didn't know; he only stole the list because he thought my Uncle Alexander was going to use it against him.”  Kala gapes a little before pressing her lips firmly shut. Wolfgang smirks, knowing she had suspected espionage the first time he was in Mumbai.  

Wolfgang tells Kala that the client was “birthed” just over a year ago: There was some concern that the client's enemies would use the information against him. Rumors that Alexander had a cure led to meetings about the suppressant and the additional rumors of hunters, but there'd been no fear of them by important people in Russia. The client purchased the suppressant as insurance, in the event a political enemy discovered the truth, not on the chance that a hunter would find him. 

Alexander compiled the list for “business reasons”. Wolfgang suspects his Grandfather Hassan was right: It was for Alexander’s takeover of Hassan’s operation, with the tacit backing of his political friends. They trust him more than they trust the Bogdanows. 

Then a year ago, someone from the client's clan was caught, and it suddenly became urgent to learn who the hunters were. The list disappeared days afterward; an informer claimed Sergei had found it among Hassan’s papers, and had quickly figured out its significance. Pictures were taken to make sure that it was the missing papers. It disappeared again before it could be recovered. 

The client was driven to try the suppressant and discovered precisely the effect Wolfgang had described to Tyotya Anna: an aching void that was barely tolerable. Whether the hunters would have gone after the client is unknown, but Viktor was sent to extract the three other members of the clan and bring them to Russia, under the client's protection. They all found that their physical proximity eased the emptiness. 

“The clan knew immediately when their captured member was dead.” Wolfgang finally lifts his fork, pokes at his food, which is remarkably still warm, and takes a bite. “They've adjusted, but the key is physical proximity.”  

Neither the client nor Viktor know about BPO until Wolfgang.

“And now,” he says, finishing his meal, “I expect Tyotya Anna and Viktor have already spoken to Dyadya Sacha, and are proposing that they meet with the client to figure out a way to stop the hunters permanently.”

And he doesn't say it, but Kala shudders, because she knows he'd love to take care of Whispers himself.  

...

 

They resume their trip in relative silence. Kala drives first, until she tires. Wolfgang picks up only then. Capheus doesn't return. 

They reach Anjuna at 11:30 in the evening. It is still very much alive with people. Lots of tourists, maybe ex-pats, as Kala expected. European. Wolfgang doesn't stick out. 

They drive to a colorful hotel close to the beach;  debate whether they should spend a night there and look for Jude in the morning or seek him out. Wolfgang looks at Kala's tired expression and suggests they spend the night, but the discovery that the rooms are all booked resolves that debate.

They check other nearby hotels; everything is booked.  

They get back in the SUV, Kala opting to drive, and venture closer inland, along roads that are alternately paved or little more than dirt paths. They wend their way past the market area, past recent but more colorful buildings that remind tourists of Goa’s Portuguese past. It's dark, but Wolfgang suddenly takes note of decorations that are already lining the streets. He turns to Kala and for the first time since the morning gives a smile. She feels it, smiles back at him.

“We'll be in Goa during your favorite holiday,” he remarks. 

She nods.  “Yes. Ganesh Chaturthi begins this weekend.”

His smile deepens, reminded of the first time she'd shared a memory with him, of being a young girl, climbing into a float of Ganesha, looking high above the teeming crowds of people.  He'd relived that moment on the rooftop, sitting beside her, numerous times while he'd been in hiding: it had saved and haunted him, depending on his mood.

And now, he's really in India, with Kala.

They'd driven the nearly 11 hours to Anjuna with hands entwined. He looks down at their fingers, interlaced and resting on the gear shift. He looks back at her and thinks he'd known even then, on that rooftop, that all he'd ever want is her.

“ _Shatz_ ,” he says, pauses. At her quizzical expression, he gives a half laugh, amazed that he's turned so soft. He shakes his head, gives her hand a squeeze. “I'm looking forward to celebrating with you.” 

Kala glances at him suspiciously but smiles.  She turns a corner and reaches a street lined with older villas, pulls over to a parking spot and looks about.  “This is it, I think,” she says.  

“It is.” Riley stands outside, looks around curiously at the identical rows of housing. “Jude lives in one of  these villas with I think three other mates. His last message to me says his address is 57D. There's a group of them living along this row. If he's not at 57D, chances are you can ask someone and they'll tell you where he's at: It's a very fluid living arrangement.”  

Riley waits for them to get out of the SUV and grab their duffle bags before walking ahead, past several of the identical villas before she stops, points at a group at the end of the block. “57D is at the end.”

Wolfgang frowns, follows behind Kala. His pistol is inside his duffel in a side pocket.

Kala opens the garden gate and lets herself through, walks with Riley, ahead of Wolfgang, as she finds 57D and knocks firmly. 

She tries once more before she hears rustling coming from inside. 

“Coming, coming.” The voice on the other side is deep and firm.

“Oh, that's him!” Riley smiles at Kala, her face lighting.

“Who is it?” the voice behind the door asks. 

“Friends of Riley Blue.”

“Riles’ mates?” Riley’s smile grows wider;  she exchanges a look with Kala, and Kala smiles back. They hear a deadbolt disengage and a chain slide from its locked position. 

The door opens and a man partially steps from behind. He's tall and blond and wearing loose Indian men's pants, a _dhoti_ , and nothing else. His hair is no longer in dreads, but it is long and pulled back in a ponytail. 

“Oh Jude it's so good to see you!” 

Kala feels such a surge of warmth and affection from Riley that she finds herself leaning in for a hug before she stops herself abruptly, blushes in embarrassment. 

Jude looks at her in some surprise, but his expression is affable and he doesn't seem put off.

He smiles warmly as he leans against the door frame, and for a confused moment, he's Magnus and then he's not, and Kala blushes harder because she can feel the residual sexual attraction Riley has for this man. 

She clears her throat: “I'm Kala. This is Wolfgang.”

He looks past her and notices Wolfgang, makes eye contact and tilts an awkward nod at him as if to say “hello” and “sorry” all at once. 

“Riley said if we were ever in town and needed a place to crash, that we should come see you.” Kala looks up at him apologetically. “Looks like everything is full for the Chaturthi.”

“Yes.” He opens the door wider and motions them in. “You're both welcome here. In fact, you can take one of the rooms upstairs. It's empty right now but I'm not sure how long that will be the case.” His voice sounds tight, a bit off.

They enter an eclectic foyer with marble tile floors and large cushions thrown in a corner. There's a statue of Buddha on a hall table and a large red Ganesha at the bottom of stairs leading up to the bedrooms. 

“If you don't mind,” Jude says, as he gestures up the stairs, “I'll leave you to go on your own. I've been having a really bad migraine all day. I'm not sure I can make it up.”

And Kala reaches for him just before he hits the floor. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to KinoGlowWorm for letting me know when things are a little off: I've tinkered even more since your last review :P Hopefully I haven't muddied things up even more. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone for reading! As always, comments are much appreciated:)


	28. Jude

Jude hangs thinly onto consciousness, one arm slung around the balustrade, another around Kala.She lowers him onto the cushions that Wolfgang has grabbed from the other end of the foyer. Wolfgang relieves her of the duffel bag that still hangs from her shoulder, places both his and hers by the other side of the stairs, and moves to stand against a metal hallway table, out of their way. He arches an eyebrow and exchanges glances with Kala, both noting the same thing. 

Jude refuses to lie down: His arms prop him up to a sitting position, but they tremble under his weight, head lolling to his chest. He leans a little against the staircase. Kala puts fingers to the vein visibly throbbing on his neck; watches the secondhand tick by on an 80’s-looking plastic clock mounted on a far wall as she counts his heartbeats. Jude’s breathing is labored and there's a sheen of sweat that films his neck and torso. But as quickly as it happens, Kala watches Jude’s face regain some color, losing some of its unnatural pallor, and feels his pulse returning to normal.   

Riley hovers behind Kala, anxious. “He's been clean for over a year,” she says, knowing immediately what Kala thinks, what Wolfgang suspects: Neither Kala nor Wolfgang miss the track marks that run along the veins on both of Jude’s arms. “The people here were all users who finally got clean and support each other. I tried…” Her voice trails and finally silences, and Kala has fleeting, painful memories of Riley and Jude and choices made that bring her to London and keep him in India. It is intensely private and intimate and Kala's eyes drop momentarily from Jude’s.

“I'd imagine that's especially hard in Goa,” Kala says gently. 

“He tried to help me.” Riley reaches to cup his face, and it's Kala's hand that does so, traces his cheek and his bristled jaw. Jude looks up at her familiar touch in some confusion before his eyes - a vivid green that springs to life from Riley's memories - widen, lock with hers. 

Kala's breath hitches and her mouth opens, but no sound comes. Her hand still cups his face, frozen, even as she hears Wolfgang asking what's wrong. Jude shifts his gaze, and she hears Wolfgang give a muttered curse. She almost laughs. 

“Jude,” she says quietly, awe and wonder in her voice, “you’re one of us.”

...

Most of them are uneasy. The Cluster, minus Will, converge on the foyer in the apartment in Anjuna, unsure of what it means, how to react, to encounter someone who's just been birthed. Capheus and Sun, Nomi and Lito, crowd the foyer, staring at Jude curiously. Riley sits on the stairs, her hand reaching between the wood spindles to touch Jude’s hair. There's a wisp of a smile as she notices the difference since she'd last seen him.  

Kala sits cross-legged on the floor, facing Jude; she looks up at Wolfgang, and the expression on his face is grim, wary, cautious. For him, making eye contact with someone of another cluster brings with it the threat of vulnerability, not a surge of curiosity, of camaraderie. Jude’s eyes are closed as he tries to regain his equilibrium.

Nomi openly shares Wolfgang's worry. 

“Well now you can visit with each other,” she says tightly, almost sarcastically. She was never very sure of Jonas, and now Jonas is eerily silent, in an unknown BPO location, no longer in Iceland. His usefulness had proven inadequate to Whispers; and Nomi can't tell whether he's dead or alive, only that she can't reach him, and he hasn't tried to reach her.

And now, there's Jude. “If they know about him,” she says, and no one asks who she means by “they”, “he's not safe here either, and you guys certainly aren't. We need another safe house.”

“His birth wasn't drug-induced,” Riley insists. “I'm sure of it. They won't know about him.”

“Unless he's had a parent already identified by BPO.” Nomi looks over at Kala, who slumps a little, self conscious of her decision not to immediately tell everyone of her finding. “Kala came across a spreadsheet of test subjects from what's probably BPO files: Wolfgang's mother, Riley’s mother were on that spreadsheet; Sara Patrell; Capheus’s father. We don't know what the purpose of the data was for, but it goes back decades.” 

Capheus lets out an involuntary huff, his face still taut with emotion. There are circles under his eyes, and an edginess about his mouth. Riley glances at Kala, but says nothing: She had suspected the truth, given the questions Kala had asked her earlier, but she is oddly still, seemingly unmoved. Only her expressive hazel eyes let on that the news is painful; one more burden to carry with the others. 

Lito and Sun react in surprise, ask to see the spreadsheet and look for names of other relatives. They both wonder if a generation was skipped, as neither had a parent pass away under suspicious circumstances. Well...Sun amends the statement, face like marble. They all know about her brother, Joon-ki.

Nomi hasn't had the time to hack into company computers, let alone dig into the information behind the spreadsheets and any connection to BPO: She's pressed to get Kala and Wolfgang out of India first. “As soon as we get them out of here, I'll get access to the data and keep digging for a connection between the companies: Find what they're trying to do.”

“Kala thinks the information sent to Rajan's company is stolen,” adds Wolfgang, and Jude looks up, his expression perplexed. “What?” he asks Kala, his voice hoarse. 

It takes her a moment to realize he thinks Wolfgang is speaking to him: “There are people here, like us,” says Kala quietly. “They're talking to us, and Wolfgang is talking to them”

Jude sits straighter as he looks around. He can sense the others’ presence, even if he can't see them. He's not quite sure what's happening -or already happened. He only recognizes that something profound has occurred; that when he looked at Kala and Wolfgang, he could feel something- an innate sense of recognition. “What's going on?” he asks, anxious. 

Kala looks at the others. “He needs to know,” says Riley. Wolfgang gives a shrug of ambivalence. 

“He needs to know,” agrees Sun, watching Riley, “but not about us; not about who make up this Cluster. Even you, Riley.” 

“What difference does it make?” Riley asks. “We're not in any more danger telling him  that he can reach out to others like him. To _me_. This -” She gestures at all of them. “What we are isn't so scary if he knows I'm like him, too. BPO already knows about me.”

“They know about you: If they get Jude, they will know for certain about Kala; they'll learn that Wolfgang is alive.” Sun is implacable. 

Nomi rubs her temples in weariness. “Let's just leave it for now. Please. We can always say something later. We can't _unsay_ something.”

There's agreement among the others. 

Kala takes a breath, and for the second time in three days, she explains what they are: about the psycellium that connect each cluster or clan; about visiting and sharing and the differences between them; about BPO and DMT and the danger they all face. Kala keeps her explanations general. 

She isn't met with any skepticism or doubt: Jude is full of questions, accepting her answers as if her words are scientific law: How soon before he meets his cluster? How many people make up his? Will they appear only if they're needed? How do you control that? She answers as best as she can, but admits she's new to this herself. 

“Ask him about the drugs,” says Nomi evenly. “We need to know if the DMT was sold out here.”

Kala asks if he'd taken any drugs recently. Jude shakes his head, emphatic: No. Not even for the migraine. Not in years. Has he ever heard of DMT? Yes. Is it sold here? In _Goa_? He looks at Kala with faint amusement. You can get anything here. There's a groan from Nomi and Riley. Who sells it? Jude shrugs. He expects the usual crowd. The Russians have been around for the last 10 years. The Cluster look at Wolfgang who shrugs again; the Bogdanows never moved operations farther east than Poland, to his knowledge. But he doesn't deny it could be associates of theirs- or of Viktor's.

But if Jude didn't take any DMT, did he have a vision, yesterday? Today? Just before the migraine came? He hesitates, looks at Kala with a mixture of relief and suspicion: Yes. A woman. Young. Black. He saw her yesterday afternoon, just as he was coming back from the beach with friends. She was very pretty, and he noticed her watching him, but his friends didn't see her, and when he looked back, she was gone. Did she look hurt? He's puzzled by the question, but shakes his head. No. She looked fine, very much unharmed; curious, real. Alive. 

This last draws a collective ripple of surprise: No one knows how a sensate birth, not arising from a suicide, is supposed to work. 

But it's one in the morning, and Kala looks on the verge of collapse.

“We need rest,” Wolfgang announces abruptly. She blinks back at him as if trying to focus. 

“ _Jaaneman_ ,” she protests, “I’m fine. We need to know, while everything is fresh in his memory-”

“He can do with some rest, too.”  

Kala looks at Jude, notices the shadows under his eyes, the trace of residual pain and weakness; it's clear he's tired as well. Kala gives a reluctant nod. “Yes. We can continue this tomorrow.” She looks at the others, and there's mutual agreement. They're all gone, even Riley, before she even finishes her sentence. 

Kala gets up stiffly but offers her hand to Jude; he takes it gratefully, releases it once he's standing. “All the bedrooms are upstairs,” he says. “I'll show you yours.” He pauses for a moment, looks from one to the other. “I'm sorry: One room, yes?”

“Yes.” Wolfgang grabs both their bags and trails behind Kala and Jude.

They're shown to the first of four bedrooms. The room is average size, empty, except for a chest of drawers along one wall, a small nightstand with an iron lamp on top, and a simple bed just big enough to accommodate both Kala and himself. Wolfgang puts the duffels beside the nightstand. Jude gestures to the drawers: “There's clean sheets in there, somewhere,” he says before excusing himself, wishing them a good evening and closing the door behind him.

Wolfgang takes his smartphone and charger from his duffle, sets them up on the nightstand. He's already taken off his shirt and unbuttoning his jeans before he realizes that Kala is opening and closing the drawers, looking for the clean sheets, finally finding them in the bottom. He gives a resigned sigh before he strips the bed, helps her put the new sheets on. She smiles gratefully at him; he smiles ruefully back.

They're asleep less than 10 minutes later.

...

They wake up from the unfiltered brilliance of the sun streaming through their window at precisely 7 in the morning, the humidity already making their skin tacky. Wolfgang presses a kiss against Kala's nape. She gives a small yawn, turns in his arms to face him. They kiss languidly, deeply, as they always do on the rare occasion when they wake together, since Kala favors the early morning and Wolfgang does not. But this morning, they both slow down, pull away from each other with mutual reluctance. There's much to do if it turns out that Goa isn't safe for Jude, either. 

They find him in the kitchen, eating what looks to be smoked salmon on a piece of bread. There's a plate with more that he gestures is for them as he finishes chewing. Wolfgang helps himself; Kala declines but takes a proffered bowl of sliced mangos. 

“Good morning,” he says. Jude doesn't look like he bothered changing after yesterday's ordeal: He's still shirtless, wearing the white dhoti, but in the daylight Kala notices a thin pale line of recently stitched skin along his lower rib cage. Her eyes glide over his well-defined torso, tanned by years under the blistering Indian sun, making the pale scar along his abs more visible. She catches Wolfgang's eyes, and he's looking singularly unamused by what she thought had been a discreet observation. 

She can't bring herself to even smile at Wolfgang's reaction.

“Were you recently at a hospital to treat that?” she asks, pointing to the scar. 

He glances down, fingers the stitching. “No,” he says. “I got jumped a little over a week ago coming from a party I was working. My flatmate took care of it. She's handy with wounds.” Jude grimaces.  

Kala breathes a sigh of relief. “You can never go to a hospital for treatment,” she says. “They'll find you.”

They spend the next half hour talking about the other way BPO finds sensates: monitoring and tracking patient intake records, looking for signs of psycellium. The sheer logistics of that method are overwhelming, yet BPO manage to find target patients within days of reporting. Kala can still feel Nomi and Riley's panic.

Wolfgang asks if Jude’s parents are both alive, and he shakes his head: Jude was raised by an aunt and his grandmother. Both parents died when Jude was much younger. 

They talk for several minutes, maybe an hour, learning more of Jude’s background, recognizing certain patterns common to all of them, when Wolfgang's phone vibrates. Wolfgang retrieves it from the pocket of his shorts.

“ _Dobroye utro_.” Good morning. 

“ _Dobroye utro_.”

Jude stiffens, suddenly on edge, shakes his head. Kala puts a hand to his forearm, frowns. “It's ok,” she assures him, as Wolfgang carries on a conversation in Russian with Yeruslan. She hopes Jude understands nothing of the language: Wolfgang mentions Felix's pistol. But even as she feels her own anxiety rise, Jude looks past Wolfgang and then back to Kala.

“Who's that?” he whispers. 

Kala turns and sees no one. “Is someone there?” she asks calmly. Jude nods. “Is it the woman you saw a few days ago?” He shakes his head, eyes widening. “Then... that person is probably a member of your clan, one of your cluster."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates are a bit more sporadic as Real Life gets a little busier. (Although, tbh the awesome pics posted from Season 2 filming have been a welcome distraction.) Thank you for your patience. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and as always, comments are much appreciated!


	29. The Plan

The heat of the morning, the heaviness in the air, gives way to rain in the early afternoon. It is, after all, just the end of the monsoon season in Goa.

Jude is pensive. After a burst of excited chatter, he grows silent, stares at his empty plate. Kala stands across from him on the kitchen island, watches his expressive face carefully. She leans on the wood top with hands folded to keep them from tapping. He's spent the morning answering her questions, responding to Wolfgang's comments.

They answer his own as best they can, especially after Jude meets two members of his cluster during their discussion: a refugee in Turkey - his visitor of the morning - and a police inspector in England.

The visit from the refugee jars him: She is his first connection, and he describes her to his guests even as the woman asks him who he's speaking to. His tell-tale stillness reveals that he is momentarily transported to wherever she is, but he returns quickly, still speaking to the woman, unaware he does so in Arabic.

He doesn't expect the rush of her emotions: confusion, fear, wariness. He also feels her hunger, so he invites her to eat. She tastes the salmon with deliberate bites, smiles at the sweetness of the fresh watermelon juice.

Their connection is abruptly broken when someone speaks to the woman.

In contrast, the visit from the inspector, which happens nearly an hour later, is quick, abrupt, as if there was some discussion over the morning coffee about India, Goa specifically, that draws Jude to their station. The inspector looks at Jude in surprise, finishes his comment, and their connection is broken. There is a residual feeling of alarm from the Englishman.

After a morning spent confronted by the reality of a new life, encountering strangers that will be an integral part of it, Jude is drained; his mind suddenly struck by everything he's been told, everything he's seen.

He shakes his head: "I need to think," he says quietly. "I'll be back."

Kala watches him in concern. "Where are you going?" she asks, trying not to sound worried, aware she is being intrusive.

Jude smiles brightly at her as he gets up from the stool he'd been sitting on. He leans forward to meet her gaze, although his face is so close that she moves back a little. She's pretty sure they can both feel Wolfgang's displeasure. Jude murmurs simply: "The beach."

Kala says nothing, although her brows arch in surprise. The rain is coming down vigorously, rattling the windows.

Jude throws Wolfgang an enigmatic look as he leaves the kitchen, the front door closing firmly behind him.

Kala's brows furrow. She wonders if she should follow him; whether she could have done more to assure Jude. But the one thing that might - telling him that Riley is a sensate - is not information Kala can disclose. She bites her lower lip, finally moves back against the kitchen counter to stand next to Wolfgang.

"Give him time," he says roughly. And she lifts a brow, eyeing him suspiciously because she knows Wolfgang is jealous: It is her hands that physically touch Jude's face, her body that leaned in for an embrace last night. That she was driven by Riley's reaction to Jude is a distinction he doesn't bother with. Kala purses her lips, disturbed, but is reminded of something else more important about this morning. She turns to face Wolfgang fully.

"Why did Yeruslan call earlier?" she asks. "Is everything alright back home? Did BPO return?"

Wolfgang lets out a short breath, a different kind of tension knots around him as he nods.

"They did, but your family is fine." He gives a faint smile. "Your father called the police; Felix caught Matheson's men in your room." The Tatar had given a colorful description of Felix in action, surprising the men as they came creeping into the upstairs bedroom. The image of Felix brandishing his wolf's head cane like a club, smashing the heavy handle straight into one man's head while connecting with his fist to another, calls to mind the days when Wolfgang and Felix were boys: For Wolfgang, fighting was always about survival, brutal and messy. But for Felix, fighting involved a flare for the dramatic: soliloquies uttered from the Conan movie.

There'd been no need to use guns: It had all happened very quickly, while everyone else was tending to a breakfast crowd, just as Felix had thought. When the police arrive, Sanyam identifies the men and reports who they came with the previous night, guaranteeing that Matheson will spend at least part of the day answering questions from a senior inspector.

Kala gives a sigh of relief, but doesn't miss Wolfgang's pause. "What else did Yeruslan say?" she asks. He'd been on the phone for some time, wandering off then coming back into the kitchen. 

He clenches his jaw in the way he has before delivering uncertain news. Kala's hand reaches to sooth it almost instinctively.

"I may have to do another job," he says. He pauses, amends his statement: "I _will_ do another job."

Her hand stills. "Another safe?" she asks.

Wolfgang shrugs, but his body language is wary. "Maybe more," he admits.

"More?" she repeats blankly. "I'm not sure what that means."

He shakes his head, but Kala's eyes grow wide with blooming suspicion. He's quick to reassure her: "No. Not to hurt anyone. I'm not sure they trust me enough to ask." His mouth twists a little in a humorless smile. The Tatar had been blunt, letting him know that Viktor and his people had been tempted, knowing the spectacular results of Wolfgang's last, personal hit, but deemed him too sloppy and unreliable: He's more valuable as a boxman.

"Then what kind of job?" Kala presses. She doesn't say so, but they both know that for _Bratva_ , he's good for only two things: cracking the uncrackable and fighting.

Wolfgang gives a quick exhale. "Viktor and his father have talked to their client, and they've proposed to act first, and quickly, to benefit him and stop BPO, maybe permanently, although there are no guarantees."

"And how do they intend to do that?"

"By exposing BPO's connection to Bratva." Wolfgang fixes her with a wry smile: "Showing its government backers that what they pay for also support notorious Russian mobsters. BPO won't survive the scrutiny."

Nomi and Amanita had long ago confirmed that BPO was funded by several governments because of its purportedly beneficial research and contribution to the human genome project. Whether the governments know the extent of BPO's experimentation is a point of debate among the Cluster: Will had wanted to expose BPO through some vaguely-conceived (and _naive,_  scoffed Nomi) charges and complaints filed with American federal agencies and maybe leak the info to newspapers. They know Will is working through contacts to tie Whispers and BPO to Angela's disappearance; Riley had mentioned some progress the other day.

But Viktor's plan... It's irrelevant whether each government is fully aware of BPO's methods or intentions: No government wants to look like they're being used and manipulated by a notorious criminal organization with rumored ties to a single, superpower government.

BPO's funding would be summarily shut down.

Kala's breath quickens. _I will do another job._ "What do they want you to do?" she asks softly.

"Get more papers," Wolfgang says. "Actually, grab materials that implicate BPO's involvement with _vor_ , pushing DMT; 'insurance' someone had saved. Just in case."

"And where are these?" Kala asks.

"St. Petersburg." Wolfgang gives her a wry smile. "They're finalizing plans, coordinating with the client." He shrugs, but there's tension coursing through him. "This," he says somberly, smiling a little thinking of Steiner's words, "would be 'epic'. The client would have political opponents removed in the fall-out, and Viktor and his father would have much to gain in taking over. And on top of that, we get rid of BPO."

"Fucking brilliant." Nomi gives an approving nod from the seat Jude had vacated. "Cutting off the money will buy us time to get our shit together, if BPO survives."

"Will it stop Whispers?" Kala looks over at Nomi. "What if he just takes his research and goes elsewhere?"

"He won't." Wolfgang fixes Kala with a steady look that makes her feel a little ill. "He won't live to do so."

"And what if BPO survives the scrutiny?" Sun sits calmly on the stool beside Nomi. In the women's prison, she is in solitary again; they all notice her hands, folded together, knuckles raw. Sun looks at Wolfgang: "You should probably suggest your people find Brouchard. He has connections within BPO; that's evident in his ability to collect their information. And he is directly tied to the flow of money and drugs with the Bogdanows, and the Bogdanows are linked to other _vor._  Brouchard can link them all to BPO." She looks over at Kala. "I feel certain that some of those papers left behind in Amsterdam will show more evidence. It's a shame we didn't think to take pictures of those, as well."

A collective approval ripples through the rest of the Cluster; they can feel it in the other 3 that aren't present. But Kala looks at Sun and understands something else. "What do you think will happen to the companies that collaborate with Brouchard? To Rajan's company?" she asks her.

Sun looks at her steadily, tilts her head and shrugs. "It's difficult to say," she says. "But if it provided drugs to _Bratva_ , even if it is to counteract the DMT, I'm not sure the company can survive the scandal."

Kala gives a faint huff of protest. "But it's a small division only. And they've not been around long enough to have discovered anything, let alone made any profit."

Sun's mouth twists in a mocking smile. "Haven't they?" she asks. And Kala remembers the "By Product" list and the ports of call and the cryptic reference to Mumbai and financial statements with coded entries that they don't fully understand. Does she truly know?

Kala's thoughts turn to her officemates, the people employed by Rasal Pharmaceuticals, to the Rasals themselves. To Rajan.

She knows and understands that it can't matter: BPO must be stopped, not just for her Cluster, but for all the others who will be hunted - born or unborn. But she can't help feeling guilt.

"How do they intend to expose BPO, once the documents or spreadsheets or whatever you are being asked to retrieve, come into the client's hands?" Kala pushes aside her feelings and concentrates on Wolfgang's answers.

"I may have mentioned the client is with Foreign Intelligence?" Wolfgang smirks. "His people are everywhere. They'll report the discovery that BPO is working with _Bratva_ as an intelligence leak. They'll have that proof in hand. Once I get it to them."

"Why you?" Kala asks. "Viktor has others."

"Yes." Wolfgang's smirk slips a little. "But where I'll be sent, his men are known. I'm not. I go alone."

"So you can be disavowed if you're caught." Sun's expression loses its stoicism. Kala looks quickly at Wolfgang. The thought had not occurred to her.

"If you're killed-"

"Viktor will bring you all together under his protection so the loss isn't unbearable. Just like the client." He smiles a little at Kala. "You'll survive. I know you will come up with something to help, _Schatz_."

There's a ringing in Kala's ear, a rush of blood as she hears what Wolfgang is saying but her mind can't seem to grasp his words. "Why won't Brouchard be enough?" she asks. "Sun is right. He can link everything together. You don't need to retrieve more proof."

"He can link BPO to Sergei, but he won't be enough." Wolfgang smiles at her softly, knowing she won't like his answer. "I would be sent to the home of a prominent _vor_  who is connected to the client's opponent. Whatever I'm getting is enough to bring them both down along with BPO."

She's already shaking her head, a sick sense of deja vu crowding out all other thoughts and emotions. Nomi and Sun look just as horrified as she feels.

"If you don't do this they'll just find someone else, right?" Nomi asks. "It's not as if you're the only one capable of breaking in and taking what's needed."

"True." Wolfgang had argued the point to Yeruslan as well. "But it would take them time to find someone who can do this that they can trust that's also unknown to other _vor._  They can only try this once. If it fails, they won't have another opportunity. There will be too much suspicion on them."

"You can't go." Kala shakes her head vigorously, her tone emphatic. "We can do this without them. We can take Brouchard's information."

But she can already feel he's made up his mind.

"Wolfgang." Kala doesn't know when she started crying, when her vision grew blurry from tears. But she's gathered in his arms, sobbing into his shoulder before she even forms another thought. He's chuckling a little as he rubs her back. " _Schatz_ , I'm not dead yet."

But it doesn't matter. She feels a superstitious dread settle in her soul. And she thinks if he goes, he's not coming back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can almost see the light at the end of the tunnel:-)
> 
> Thank you for reading, and as always, comments are much appreciated!


	30. Goodbye Again

In the afternoon, Nomi successfully hacks into the database of the Bureau of Immigration and retracts the look-out circular for Kala Dandekar. Kala's visa still needs to be put in order, but at least Whispers' unexpected road block is removed.

"And the police saw him this morning," Nomi adds thoughtfully. "If the police came for me this morning, what would I do?"

They're in an apartment in San Francisco, where it's 12:30 A.M. and everything is dark except for the glow of computer monitors on a long table. Kala sits next to Nomi, who is typing quickly on the keyboard. Amanita is across from them both, watching street feeds with a view of Whispers' hotel. It was Amanita that saw the police arrive while Nomi was visiting in Mumbai. She watched them leave about 12 minutes later, unaccompanied, and followed when Whisper's black car came out of the hotel parking and headed off in the same direction, 7 minutes after the police are gone. Amanita tracks the CCTV feeds and confirms Whispers went to the station, but he returns without his two assistants. He's been holed up in the hotel ever since.

"Should I keep watching, babe?" Amanita asks, taking a sip from a fast food cup, "or should I just let it sit while I check on how we're doing with Scotland?" There's another monitor next to her, attached to a box that blinks and flips nothing but code onto a computer screen.

Nomi looks up over her monitor. "Maybe a little longer, Neets? That ass just booked a flight out." Nomi squints as she traces his name on a passenger list. "For fucking _tonight_! Business class to Chicago under his alias of Friedman. That's the name he used when he came to see Neets's mom." Nomi scrolls down the rest of the list. "Looks like his thugs aren't coming with him." She smirks a little at Kala. "I don't think Whispers expected to have the trouble with you that he did. He didn't coordinate with Indian authorities to grab you as soon as he arrived, like when he came looking for me. And now he's got this problem if your dad presses charges." She shakes her head. "I'm sure Whispers denied having anything to do with those guys being in your house."

"You don't think he'll get them out?" asks Kala. "They must know something." There's a painful hope in her voice, but Nomi shakes her head.

"Not if he left them with the police." She gives a huff of frustration. "I'm sure BPO will eventually go through the consulates to get them out. They're the hired muscle that do the dirty work after all. But I'm sure first, Whispers wants to distance himself from this farce as soon as possible, before anyone thinks to detain him. And if he's willing to leave them, then they probably don't know anything of value."

In other words, they're expendable. No one says so out loud, but Nomi winces when she feels the tightness that shoots through Kala.

Everyone is worried about Viktor's plan to send Wolfgang to extract the proof of BPO's connection to Bratva. Everyone is worried about sending Wolfgang alone to do the job. They all remain suspicious of the Russians' trustworthiness.

But they recognize that they have an opportunity to take down BPO, and with no other plan, on the run, and feeling Whispers edging closer, it is their best chance.

"I know you're afraid for him." Nomi lays a gentle hand on Kala's shoulder, feels it stiffen under her touch. "But you know Wolfgang won't really be alone. We'll be there to support him. We'll be there to help, even if no one else is."

Kala stares back, and the expression on her face makes Nomi stutter to a stop.

"Of course. I know that," Kala says. Her voice is even, precise. She holds Nomi's gaze for a moment, searching for reassurance, but finding none, her eyes drop. When she stands, they're both in the bedroom in Anjuna.

Wolfgang is gone: He'd taken the car keys and left some time ago, after he calms Kala, after he receives another call, this time from Viktor.

"Wolfgang won't have anyone there to help him if he's in physical trouble, if he's hurt." Kala paces to the window and watches the rain create sheets of water that trail down the panes. Her expression is shuttered. "He can't pick himself up if he's seriously injured. We can't help him do that unless we're there."

The way she says it sends warning bells through Nomi. "You're not going with him." Nomi looks at Kala as if she'd lost her mind. "You have no experience in - in doing whatever the hell it is he's doing, and you'd be more of a liability than an asset to him."

"If I tap into his memory, I'll know."

"His memory isn't his experience." Nomi frowns at Kala's back. "It's not like knowing German because he speaks it. You can't do what he does unless you share. You know that."

"He can't go alone."

"Maybe he won't. You don't know why he just left."

The stillness of Kala's body, the expression in her profile, does nothing to reassure Nomi.

"You can't go with him," she repeats firmly, and the heavy silence worries her. "Kala, if there's a possibility we lose Wolfgang... We can't lose you too. We don't even have Will yet. I'm not sure how…" She takes a deep breath, tries to force herself to explain that the Cluster can't afford to lose her and Wolfgang. Instead, she lets out a strangled huff. "God damn it. You know how he feels about you. You know how he feels about himself. Let him do this for all of us, so he feels...worthy. Let him do it without making him worry about you, too."

She'd felt it; they'd all felt it: Wolfgang and his almost visceral need for redemption.

Kala's face softens a little. "Nomi," she begins. But she can't articulate, doesn't even try. Kala feels hands wrap around her shoulders and she leans a little into the embrace. And then Nomi is gone.

…

Jude returns, soaking wet, with one of his flatmates: Lucy of the neat stitches. She's English and maybe a little younger than Jude, and uses an umbrella that she shakes out and leaves in the foyer to dry. Cute and effervescent, she accepts Kala's presence without question and starts a lively, if slightly one-sided conversation about how perfect it's been in Goa and how beautiful the people are and what a brilliant time Kala will have, even if she's by herself- Jude tells her that Kala is there with her  _aashiq_ , her boyfriend, and Lucy continues on. Jude rolls his eyes and smiles, but he also shakes his head a little at Kala: it's implied that he hasn't said anything to Lucy. He goes upstairs to dry himself off and leaves them to get acquainted.

Lucy's spirited chatter is the only way Kala distracts herself from Wolfgang's absence. He's gone the rest of the afternoon and is still not back when Lucy convinces her to try eating out at a local bar. The rain finally stops in time for people to emerge from their homes, from their hotels, to go out. Kala isn't alone long enough to reach Wolfgang to find out if he's fine.

By dusk, Anjuna is beginning to live up to its reputation. Jude isn't working, so he goes with Kala and Lucy and they eventually end up at another bar along the beach. A party is just getting started, and Kala watches curiously. Jude and Lucy run into several people they know, and everyone is friendly, even if Kala doesn't say much. Oddly enough, none of the Cluster visit; there's a pall that seems to have settled over them, and Kala isn't in the mood for being visited. She stays for a little bit before she asks Jude for the key to the flat; she tells him and Lucy that she's going back. Jude insists on coming with her, even though she assures him she doesn't need his escort; it's 930 PM and it feels as if everyone is out and about.

They talk about Riley on the way back: Kala has to make up a story about how they'd met. Jude is pleased to learn that Riley is doing well, although she can sense a flash of something - regret? nostalgia? - when she mentions Will. She asks if he's met anyone else from his cluster, but he shakes his head, although he tells her with a laugh that while he was out on the beach, he thought he heard a siren: only it didn't sound like a siren in Goa; it sounded like a siren in the US, like in the movies. She smiles and tells him that maybe it was.

When they reach the villa, he unlocks the door to let her in and hesitates as she tells him he should go back to the party. "Can I ask you something?" he asks her as she steps into the foyer, leaving him outside.

Kala turns to face him, tilts her head quizzically. "Sure."

"You and Wolfgang are in the same cluster." She nods, frowns a little. "Did you know each other before? I mean, did you meet before you became sensates?"

Kala's posture relaxes a little. She smiles. "No," she says. "I met him afterward."

He seems to consider that, looks as if he's about to ask another question, but instead merely returns her smile. "You're sure you'll be ok?"

"Yes. Thank you." Jude wishes her a goodnight; she says she'll see him in the morning.

When she closes the door, she looks up at the top of the stairs and frowns, because of course Wolfgang is there.

"Hello again."

She doesn't say a million and one things she wants to, but instead climbs up the stairs, each lift of her leg an effort, and stops when she reaches Wolfgang at the top.

She looks up at him with grave eyes, weariness evident in a slight droop of her posture. They're silent for several seconds; Wolfgang gives a short exhale.

"Kala," he says, wary that she's angry with him, "I'll be leaving Anjuna in three days, and going to St. Petersburg in five." He reaches a tentative hand to push a curl behind her ear. She doesn't move, and he sighs softly. "I've been thinking how much I've wanted to spend Chaturthi with you. I'd like to. If you'll let me."

Had she really almost forgotten about Ganesha Chaturthi? Kala lets out a broken laugh. "You're going to miss _Anant Chaturdashi_ ," she says, referring to the final celebration, when the idols are brought to the sea. "It's on the 10th day. You'll be in St. Petersburg."

He shrugs, steps closer to hold Kala, and when she doesn't protest, wraps his arms gently around her. "Maybe I'll be back by then," he says.

Kala smiles a little, wanting to cry, too. What's the point in being angry when they have such little time left before he leaves? She turns her face into his shoulder, returns his embrace, and looks up at him, eyes soft. "That would be lovely."

She smiles and runs a hand along his bristled jaw, right before he bends his head to kiss her.

….

They don't celebrate Chaturthi - or Chavath, as it's called in Goa - in the way Wolfgang pictured. In the morning, the first day of the celebrations, Kala walks to the local temple for  _puja_ , prayer. It's a beautiful morning, and Wolfgang goes with her, holding hands through streets and across roads already filling with people, intent on doing the same. She stops at a vendor to purchase an offering.

When they arrive, the temple is busy, but Wolfgang's not as self conscious as he thought he'd be, kneeling beside her in the open altar, silent while she communes with her god and goes about her rituals that are both foreign and comforting to him. It's the same feeling he had watching her pray in the shitty little hotel room in Berlin: She's beautiful and ethereal and he can no sooner take his eyes off of her than change the inevitability of their lives intertwined together. He watches her and the others around her, and he imagines he almost feels at peace.

They don't return immediately to the flat to set up  _sthapna,_ the altar. Instead, they stop to purchase some modak, bread and cheese, coffee for Wolfgang, tea for Kala, and head to the beach. It's quiet, and they find a palm tree to lean against, sit beside each other, eat their breakfast. They bury their toes in the sand and don't leave right away: Kala falls asleep for a little while, cradled on Wolfgang's lap with her head on his shoulder. Wolfgang closes his eyes, face lifting to the sun, and listens to the waves roll gently to shore, the rustle of the palm leaves above them, trying to commit the moment to memory. He falls asleep as well. When Kala stirs, he kisses the top of her head and they get up to walk back to the flat.

He helps Kala install her beloved idol on the nightstand. He may not believe in her gods - or anyone's god, for that matter - but as she chants her mantras and gives her offering, for Kala, it is enough that Wolfgang is with her and stands in respectful silence. She is grateful to Ganesha for this time together.

Lucy and Jude are still asleep when she's done; together, apparently, from the single closed door. It's not a bad way to spend the first morning of Chaturthi, and Wolfgang smirks at Kala suggestively while she bats his arms and tells him they have lots to do. But she's not beyond convincing, and when his hands reach around her waist, coast along her hips, she doesn't object but reaches under his shirt to run her hands along his chest. They spend a lazy mid morning in bed after all.

Wolfgang goes shopping with her later, and they're gone for the rest of the afternoon, exploring Anjuna, grabbing food from street vendors, returning to the temple for the second puja before going back to the villa.

Kala knocks on the door although Wolfgang laughs and rolls his eyes and she knows he can get in the same way he'd done last night: by picking the locks in less than 20 seconds.

Jude opens the door, but Wolfgang looks past him and sees the new guest first: A lanky shadow partially hidden among the idols and bric-a-brac in the foyer, happily chatting in broken English with Lucy.

And in two long strides, Wolfgang greets him with a huge embrace, grins and slaps his cheek as they break off in excited German, talking over each other. Kala waits a little for the flurry to die down before she even ventures to step forward and offer her own happy greeting to Felix, hugs him warmly and kisses him on the cheek.

Lucy ushers everyone into an open room that extends out to a lanai. It turns out that Felix just arrived not long ago himself, although he had the good fortune to get a room in one of the hotels, which amazes everyone. He'd flown in from Mumbai to Goa International Airport, then taken a 45- minute taxi ride to Anjuna with a driver whose brother owns a little hostel with a last minute cancellation. It was all coincidence.

Because it's easiest, they communicate in English: Lucy is introduced to Wolfgang, they all talk about Mumbai and Berlin and Anjuna, and differences and expectations. But both Jude and Lucy work that night at the same club -Lucy, they learn, bartends - so after a little while, Jude and Lucy get up to leave but invite their guests to come see them later.

"Yeeessss!" Felix is predictably ready to go and enjoy the nightlife of Anjuna. "We need to celebrate how fucking amazing I was!" He smiles broadly at a laughing Kala and grinning Wolfgang. "Seriously! Did you hear from the Tatar?" Felix is perched on the edge of his seat, his cane propped up beside him, but it's clear he no longer really needs it, and he grabs the wolf's head and begins to swing the cane gently. He directs his attention to Kala, eyes flashing: "I caught them sneaking into your room. These two, large  _Wichser_ -" He opens his arms wide. "louder than a pair of fucking bulls. But I caught them by surprise and I nailed one of them right on the head - clocked him in one fell swoop of my cane! - and then I rammed my fist into the other guy's jaw in a lovely uppercut! You'd have been proud! It was like the Battle of the Mounds- only less gory. And I suppose less people … But I'm telling you…" Felix reclines back in his seat. "I was a thing of lethal grace and beauty. Crom would have been proud." The cane is gently laid to rest beside him, after serving admirably as a prop.

Kala is laughing outright and even Wolfgang chuckles at the self-satisfied smirk on Felix's face.

"The Tatar told me this morning that Whispers flew out of India like the coward he is, and since the thugs are in jail, I figured it's safe to meet you here." He suddenly sobers, his expression quizzical. "I called your contact, Lito. He told me how to find you. He also told me you're leaving soon, Wolfie: tomorrow? day after? But he didn't say why. Just said you are going alone." He leans in, looks from one to the other. "You wouldn't leave Kala unless something big is happening. So what is it?"

Kala and Wolfgang exchange glances. She half-expects Lito to appear and explain himself, but he doesn't. Wolfgang looks at Felix, shakes his head. But under Felix's relentless stare, he gives a huff. "I have to go to St. Petersburg," he says.

Felix lifts a brow: "What for?" he asks, and when he sees Wolfgang hesitate, he says: "Better say so now, Wolfie, and save us both the time and trouble."

Wolfgang gives a faint smile: Felix could wear down a fucking saint. He shakes his head and tells Felix everything: the need to bring down BPO, the plan to do so by revealing the connection between BPO and Bratva; Wolfgang's assignment to retrieve damning evidence to turn over to the Russians. And because he knows Felix won't believe that Viktor would ever plan such a thing out of altruism, he tells him the benefit for the politico and Alexander if it's all successful.

"But they're sending you alone?" Felix asks. "That's fucked up."

Wolfgang shrugs. "They can't risk their own in case the person gets caught. Everyone knows everyone. And they don't trust someone they don't know."

Felix scrunches his face. "It's still shitty," he says. "Sounds like we're breaking into a compound and you could use extra eyes on an area that big."

It takes a moment for Wolfgang to take in what Felix says. "You can't go," he says, shaking his head. "I'd never ask you to go."

"You're not asking," Felix says, laughing a little. Wolfgang doesn't return the smile, and Felix shakes his head at him. "Look, Wolfie," he says, in that same patient tone he'd had since they were kids and Felix was talking him into something, "if you think I'm letting you go by yourself you're fucking crazy. If things were the other way around, you wouldn't let me go alone. Why do you think I'd let you?" He shrugs and grins. "And we both know you're shit for plans."

Wolfgang is silent for several seconds; Kala doesn't even realize she's holding her breath until she sees him smile slowly, gratefully, at Felix. " _Bruder_ ," he says simply.

" _Bruder_ ," responds Felix.

 Brother.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if I've described some aspects of Ganesha Chaturthi incorrectly; please feel free to let me know and I'll be more than happy to correct it in the story. 
> 
> Thanks to scaredofuhlek for giving me some nice last-minute German words :-) Danke. 
> 
> And finally, as always, thank you for reading! Comments are much, much appreciated!


	31. St. Petersburg

Wolfgang pulls his collar up against the chill of a fall breeze and a sun that barely warms him, walking back to the four-star hotel he's staying in with Felix. He's been in St. Petersburg for awhile, yet it's still difficult to reconcile the fact that just four days ago he was in much hotter climes. 

He's dressed in an expensive tailored suit, the kind worn by men like Viktor - _bogatyj mudak_ , he smirks, wealthy assholes - and he's neat and clean-shaven, in fancy leather shoes that Felix envies, even if they're a little conservative. His blond hair and eyebrows are dyed a medium brown: His similarity to Viktor is too striking, but the change in hair color seems to take care of that.

The plan to take the records tying BPO to a notorious Russian _vor_ will be executed tonight, four nights since arriving in St. Petersburg, six after leaving Anjuna. There's no point in delaying any longer; their opportunity is almost over. 

Wolfgang picks up his pace a little. He'd met with contacts arranged through 2 other levels of anonymity to get whatever weapons or tools he and Felix need: cutters for wire and glass, drill, night goggles, even tasers; things he thinks will come in handy or that Felix says they'll need. Things they can carry in backpacks. Viktor left weapons for them hidden in their respective hotel rooms. 

The items are carefully boxed and in shopping bags from an exclusive men's clothing store, walking distance from the hotel. Wolfgang nods at the doorman, the concierge, the staff he encounters on the way to the elevators and his room. Once inside, he empties the bags and the boxes on his bed, takes an inventory and makes sure he didn't forget anything while there's still time to go back. Felix is in his own room, just across the hall, going over schematics and floor plans; fine-tuning how to do the job, making up contingency plans, with a single minded focus that never fails to impress Wolfgang, who is more likely to chance things to fate. This pattern - Felix diligently studying plans, Wolfgang making sure they have everything they need - is almost comforting in its familiarity. 

He looks around the bedroom and exhales slowly to calm himself from the adrenaline rush that always comes right before a job. Even this one. He smirks a little, noting opulent gilded furniture and reproduction, Impressionist art that decorate the room.

The Russians don't believe in lying low. “No one ever guesses it's the rich guy dirtying his hands,” Viktor tells him during that first phone call in Anjuna. So Wolfgang and Felix stay at one of the best hotels in St. Petersburg and rent an expensive luxury car to drive around in. They pay for everything in cash, even their hotel rooms, and if anyone thinks that's odd, no one says so; they tip very generously. Felix is almost giddy in his new identity and new-found wealth; it makes him feel like he's in a James Bond movie. 

Wolfgang frowns, a little concerned with Felix's intrigue with Bratva. Or at least Viktor's version of Bratva: It is not the gritty, dirty Bratva of the Bogdanows.

Viktor approved Felix’s participation with some ambivalence: He restructured plans to accommodate Felix while the two men were still in India, in New Delhi, with Alexander's men. Viktor himself is in Kiev and handled things by phone, worked out obvious details: the route Wolfgang and Felix take to encounter the least witnesses and avoid cameras; who to contact for specific items or tools; planning entrance and exit points to the property; giving them cash to spend. Wolfgang’s hair was dyed in New Delhi; Felix's shorn close to his head.  

If there is one thing that Felix does complain about, though, is the lack of solid information. 

Unlike the home in Amsterdam, the St. Petersburg compound - and Felix was right to call it that - is equipped with state of the art security, armed guards, four large dogs. The only good news is that the family isn't in residence, so there are only a handful of guards about, most accompanying the _vor_ to Moscow for the same “convention” of wealthy and influential businessmen that Anna attends with Alexander: a convention that ends in 3 days.

The compound consists of the main villa, just off of Lake Suzdal with pier access, a separate building just west of the mansion, and another structure out of the mansion’s sight line that's simply referred to as “ _korobka_ ”. The Box. Viktor thinks what they're looking for is in there, but no one is positive, and certainly no one knows for sure where to look. 

The Box is essentially a single-level warehouse with eight rooms, all offices or storage, and while not vast, it's large enough to be a challenge when time is of the essence: about 520 square meters, 1800 square feet. It runs on its own generator, so shutting power to disable sensors is not overly complicated: The personal generators that supply the compound are on-site. Alexander's men have a schematic of the building based upon the numerous visits made on business, and while they don't know where the incriminating material is kept, at least there’s a sense of where it might be found: a short, square office in the back with dimensions that don't make sense when all the other rooms are long and rectangular. They speculate the existence of a secret room or vault, but no one knows for sure; there have been no rumors about it, let alone any idea how to access it. If it exists. 

And if nothing is there, Alexander's men identify one other possibility: The panic room in the mansion. They actually have a floor plan of the mansion. 

“The fuck they're doing sending us on a job this big where they don't know where shit is,” Felix huffed quietly when Wolfgang translated the news during a meeting. “ _Die sind vollkommen durchgeknallt.” They're completely crazy._

There's the briefest pause between sentences before Viktor says a little tersely over the speaker: “ _Wir sind nicht verrückt.” We're not crazy. "Wir haben nur keine Zeit mehr.” Just out of time._

Felix throws a flustered look at Wolfgang who merely shrugs apologetically: He'd forgotten to mention Viktor speaks German.

After that, Felix keeps his frustrated comments to himself and merely rolls his eyes when Wolfgang translates all the things they don't know. 

...

Wolfgang doesn't block the Cluster, superstition notwithstanding. The job at hand impacts them all, and while he's uneasy about making them privy to a part of his life he's previously guarded, they all deserve to know what's happening. 

He doubts he could ever keep them out again, anyway. 

They're there at various times, if their real lives permit the opportunity of a visit: during the meetings in New Delhi, while strategizing with Felix in St. Petersburg, someone usually visits. 

Nomi offers direct help: The _vor’s_ security system is cellular-based, and Alexander's people will block the signal to shut down camera feeds in 5 minute increments, but Nomi intends to follow their progress, in case something goes wrong; in case he needs more time. She's convinced she can override their commands.

Sun intends to be attuned to what goes on in St. Petersburg. The time difference works in her favor, since she will be either at breakfast or in the shop, sewing, when Wolfgang and Felix reach the villa. Wolfgang prides himself in his fighting skills, but even he's in awe of Sun’s abilities. And certainly, Sun reminds him dryly, she can recognize bad books.

Capheus and Lito also offer whatever assistance Wolfgang may need; even if that's nothing more than extra eyes and ears.

Wolfgang pauses in his assessment of materials spread on his bed. 

Riley stopped coming after New Delhi and Kala only manages to visit twice: The two of them deal with Whispers’ renewed, frantic push to reach Will. 

Since arriving in Chicago, Whispers is relentless in trying to make contact, at all hours of the day and night. 

The Cluster wonder if Whispers knows he's on borrowed time: Once Viktor disclosed his identity to the client, Whispers became a marked man. It's only a matter of time and opportunity. Viktor has told them so.  

But no matter the reason, Whispers is proceeding aggressively. The intensity of his attempts drains the original serum, which is nearly gone. Kala directs the use of the stronger med, and it works, even in smaller, cautious doses, but Will is severely nauseous, weakened, after each injection: He's vomited so badly they worried how to rehydrate him without taking him to a hospital.

Because of Will's reactions, Kala is most often with Riley, making sure that Will is ok, and only visits Wolfgang twice since New Delhi: once upon arriving at the hotel to marvel at its opulence, remark laughingly on Wolfgang's dark looks; once the next afternoon, while he is with Felix, to point out that a taser is likely to kill a dog, not stun it. She tells him there's an easier way, but Riley's call for assistance takes Kala's attention before she can tell him. 

Kala returns to working on modifying the med so Will can tolerate the dosage and withstand Whispers’ renewed attacks. Between assisting Riley and working on a stronger, but less reactionary drug, Kala is effectively distracted from the events in St. Petersburg. Wolfgang is both glad for and annoyed by it. He visits her at night, in that room in Anjuna, fitting his phantom presence alongside hers as she sleeps, exhausted, 2 hours and 30 minutes ahead of his time zone. She doesn't even stir when he gathers her in his arms. 

Wolfgang shifts a little, gives a sigh and tries not to think how much he wants her. 

He picks up the items from the bed and puts them in the backpacks for Felix and himself. When he's finished, he grabs the bags and leaves his room to meet with Felix.

…

The drive up to the villa is uneventful, as expected. It's quiet, too, and once he gets out of the city center, it's a nice ride: St. Petersburg is really very pretty, the “Venice of the North”.

Felix is quiet. Felix is always quiet when he's on a job. 

As with Amsterdam, the plan is to leave little to no footprint at the compound: nothing to tip off that anything of importance is stolen. This means crippling security discreetly, rather than shutting it down by destroying the generator, avoiding guards, rather than confronting them, and distracting the dogs who roam the grounds, not killing them with tasers, as Kala had said.

Felix re-sets the tasers to reduce their voltage and brings treats - leftover steaks from last night's dinner, what he laughingly calls their last meals - to quiet the dogs.

Wolfgang pulls the car up along a private lane, behind some overgrown hedges, next to the pier access; they put on black caps and blacken their faces that look preternaturally pale in the dim moonlight. They grab their backpacks, insert earpieces that keep them in communication with each other and an unknown techie responsible for jamming the security system's cellular signal. Whomever is responsible for monitoring their progress keeps discussion to a minimum, only offering a “ _da_ ” when Wolfgang asks if they're connected. Felix gives a thumbs up. It's not necessary yet, but they slip on night vision goggles around their necks and put on gloves. 

They sling their backpacks behind them and follow the shadows up along the bank until they reach the gate that marks the first entry to the compound, maybe 50-60 meters from the Box, if the schematics are correct. They don't leave the shadows because there are cameras around the gate and the Box. The dogs should be near, too.

Wolfgang and Felix wait for the voice over their ear pieces before approaching the gate. “ _Kamera vyklyuchena.” The camera is off. “Pyat’ minut.” Five minutes._

The heavy metal door is old-school locks and bolts. Wolfgang grabs his bumper keys and makes his way through each with an efficiency that has Felix nodding his approval, even as he's grabbing the tasers from their backpacks to take care of the dogs. 

“Wait!” 

Wolfgang's head snaps back at Capheus; Felix looks at him quickly, alarmed, before he realizes they must have a visitor. 

“I discovered something, while Kala visited me.” Capheus gestures for Wolfgang to open the door. “I can take care of the dogs. You first,” he says, when Felix moves to go ahead. Wolfgang puts a staying hand on Felix’s arm, lifts the handle and steps in. 

He doesn't see them at first: black and brown creatures that emerge from the other side of the Box: four large dogs, mutts that look like Rottweiler mixes, moving as a pack. They see him from a distance and lower their heads, trotting softly, at first, and soundless: they don't bark immediately, as if gauging whether he's an intruder or not, and when they decide, they run full-tilt, with low-pitched growls. 

Then stop mid-stride.

Capheus stands beside Wolfgang, waving his arms, staring at the dogs, shooing them off. They see him, and they are clearly uncertain, then visibly afraid. He walks towards them, they crouch submissively, whining, before they dart away. 

Wolfgang looks at Capheus, impressed. Capheus shrugs, his smile spreads sheepishly. “She used to scare off all the animals when she visited,” he says, by way of explanation, and Wolfgang has a flash of Kala walking alongside Capheus: how chickens would startle from slack arms and dogs would bark and tremble in their wake. He almost laughs at the memory until someone says into his ear: “ _dve minuty.” Two minutes._ They have two minutes to close the gate and make it to the Box. 

Felix opens the gate further, slides in cautiously, eyes darting about, and closes it behind him. He relocks the gate and throws the meat and the tasers into his backpack, staring meaningfully at Wolfgang before he does so. His “I gotta know what happened” look is etched on his face. They make a dash toward the generator, a few meters from the Box, ducking low, staying in shadows, mindful of cameras. The cameras trained at the gate power back up again. 

They wait for almost two more minutes before they hear it again: “ _Kamera vyklyuchena. Pyat’ minut.”_ The cameras trained on the Box are out. 

Felix nods once and darts for the back door, closest to the mystery room. He hunches, waits for Wolfgang to shut off the power that feed motion sensors inside.

Wolfgang takes longer to open the generator, its mechanics contained in a padlocked metal box that holds the generator itself. The padlock is easy to open, but the lid is partially stuck. 

He freezes in the midst of prying the lid open: Men, talking quietly, shoes crunching on gravel then falling silent as they hit grass, are nearby. “ _Gvardiya_ ,” he murmurs to the nameless Russian at the source of their transmissions. “ _Wachter_ ,” he murmurs for Felix. Guards. 

Wolfgang reaches behind and draws the pistol from his back, takes off the safety quietly. He crouches low behind the generator. Felix is exposed at the back door. If they round the corner, Wolfgang knows they'll see him. 

The voice that crackles over the guards’ radios is unfamiliar and broken, but the men stop and respond to it. Wolfgang hears a faint “ _nuzhna pomoshch” - need help._

“They'll be out of your hair in a minute.” Nomi is crouched beside him. He can barely make out her silhouette in the dark. “We're sending them to the main house. We deliberately triggered the alarms.”

She barely finishes her explanation before the men turn back and head in the direction of the villa. When Wolfgang turns to her, she's gone. 

The time wasted by the arrival of the guards has eaten into their 5 minutes, but the cameras haven't powered back up again. “Now?” asks Felix through the ear piece. “Gone,” answers Wolfgang. “I need more time,” he mutters. “ _Kamera vyklyuchena_.”

“ _Etto stranno,_ ” says the Russian, confused. _That's strange. “Podozhdite.” Wait_. There's a moment of silence - probably no longer than a minute, but stretching into a lifetime - before he says again: “ _Kamera vyklyuchena. Pyat’ minut.”_

Wolfgang doesn't waste time: He grabs the lid and tries to push up.

“I don't know if this will work, but may I?” Wolfgang watches as Lito grabs the lid, grunts twice and lifts it off, his triumphant smile met by Wolfgang’s wry “thanks”. Lito gives a small chuckle. “I'm sure you loosened it for me, amigo.”

When he looks inside, Wolfgang can barely contain his relief: The generator is a fancy industrial model, made to power multiple floors, let alone a single level building, and it's been reconfigured and marked to easily show where power is dedicated. He merely flips the switches marked “7” and “8” - the last two rooms - and the switch marked “ _dveri”, doors_. “Ok,” he says, and he hears a soft rustle as Felix picks a lock and enters through the back door; listens for the click of it locking behind him. 

Wolfgang closes the lid, replaces the padlock without actually locking it, and moves off into the shadows. He hears the cameras come back on, blue lights blinking, and waits.

…

Kala knows the moment when it happens. 

She feels the cold first: A sudden, violent burst that spreads like icy fingers along her left side. It's the shock, she thinks. 

Jude is saying something to her, but she can't quite make out what it is he says. His face looks panicked, his mouth is moving, but Kala is finding it difficult to understand him. His voice recedes in her consciousness like a dream, even as she feels him literally sweep her off her feet in the middle of the market. 

_Wolfgang._

She wonders whether she says his name out loud, but it doesn't matter because the next thing she knows she is in a car, in the back seat, and she knows she's with him. She sees Felix in the passenger seat, chuckling softly. 

A part of her mind registers that they are pleased; she can feel their intense satisfaction, and she knows they've gotten what they came for. She's relieved. 

She struggles to stay awake, to say his name, and Wolfgang finally feels her presence. It's so faint, she knows she can't stay much longer.

Wolfgang looks behind him. “Kala?”

She stares back, and her face is drawn, contorted with the pain that is finally reaching her brain.

“Kala?”

Her hand slips from her side. She'd been unaware that she'd even been holding it, and she stares blankly at the warm blood that covers her fingers, that stain the colorful blouse. Somehow, seeing it makes the pain more intense, and she can't stay awake any longer. “I'm sorry,” she starts to say. She'd wanted to stay. 

But she's gone before the rest of the words leave her lips. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to KinoGlowWorm for reading and, of course, the Russian (I'm kind of bummed I didn't use more or even get to describe SPB the way I would have liked but this is long already :p)
> 
> Thanks to Scaredofuhlek for the German and lowkey checking in on progress when I got a little distracted by stuff she was posting on tumblr.
> 
> And this is the longest I've been between chapters, so thank you for your patience, and thank you for reading!!!
> 
> As always, comments are much appreciated!


	32. Kala

Kala grits her teeth against a wave of crashing pain, squeezing her eyes tight as she feels herself return to her body, to the noise, the panic that erupts around her. Jude holds her like a baby, pressed tightly to him as he pushes his way through the crowds, his large body forcibly plowing through frightened people, scattered by the gun shots in the early morning.

The market is in chaos. Jude catches Kala before she recognizes she is hurt, is already shielding her and looking for shelter before she takes her hand from her side - in a frantic marketplace in Anjuna/ in the backseat of a car in St. Petersburg - and realizes that she's bleeding. And while Jude knows he shouldn't move her, every instinct in his body shouts for him to grab her and  _run._

There is burning heat now searing through Kala's side and spreading where the cold had been. She stares down blankly at her hand, cramped and warm with blood coating her open palm. She places it back against her blouse, presses against the wound with a soft sob. Her mind tries to disassociate from the pain, make some medical sense of where she's hurt. But she can't think past the agony, radiating like a hot coal along her back, and she's lightheaded but fighting the urge to faint.

Through her haze, she can sense the Cluster; can feel their emotions tumble in a chorus of support and worry and fear. She wonders vaguely if they're there, if Wolfgang has followed her. She doesn't look around, pressed against Jude's chest. She can hear the rapid tattoo of his heart in her ear.

 _Hang in there, baby, stay awake!_ She can make out Nomi's deliberately calming voice over everyone else's: It blends in her head with Jude's steady stream of mumbled encouragement in broken Finnish and English: " _Kala! Sä oot okei, Kala.You'll be ok. Sä oot okei, Kala."_

"Over there! Over there!" Lucy follows behind Jude's lead, the urgency in her tone cutting through the havoc in the market. She darts in front of them, and Jude follows her into an abandoned vendor's stall selling incense and candles and other offerings for Ganesha. _Anant Chaturdashi_ , Kala muses distantly, _is tomorrow_. She had hoped to share it with Wolfgang.

Lucy moves tipped-over merchandise and makes space on the dirt ground for Jude to lay Kala. "Sit her up."

He obediently props her against him while Lucy gently removes Kala's hand from her side, looks into dark brown eyes glazed with pain and shock. "Kala, I know this hurts, but you need to try and stay awake and talk to me." Lucy rips the colorful blouse to expose the source of the bleeding, keeping a running dialogue that Kala barely acknowledges: "Let's see where it is...I think it's just to your side. It's small, looks like only one shot, right?" She gives a small sigh of relief, smiles encouragingly at Kala. "There, see? You're not bleeding much at all." Lucy tears off the edge of the ripped blouse and wads it up to make a small compress that she puts firmly on the wound, just under a rib, to stop the bleeding: "You need to hold this tight, ok? This is gonna hurt." Kala winces, lets out a choked gasp at the new fissure of pain that shoots through her. "Can you breathe alright?" Kala nods.

"Tilt her to the opposite side," Lucy tells Jude. He does so carefully, supporting Kala so she rests against his arm and leg, earning another faint huff of pain from Kala. "We need to see if it's gone,ok? Let's see if the bullet…," Lucy lets out a hiss of surprise. There is much more blood from an exit wound several inches lower, and larger, than the entry point. Her eyes trail up along Jude, his chest, his dhoti: He hasn't noticed that Kala's blood stains his arm, along his shirt, his lap. "Jesus Christ," she murmurs. In the distance they can already hear sirens. "We need to get her to a hospital." Kala shakes her head weakly, mouths a "no" she hopes Jude hears, and clenches her grip on his arm. Lucy is already wadding up the back of the blouse to apply to the exit wound.

"She said no hospitals! They'll find her and get to the others. We can't take her there," Jude says.

"What are you talking about?" Lucy snaps at him, nerves fraying her voice. "That bullet ripped through her at an angle. I don't know what damage it did, but I  _do_ know she's losing blood." Lucy's voice cracks; she gestures at him and he looks down blankly, stares at the burgundy staining his clothing and crusting on his arm, on Lucy's hands.

Kala shakes her head, but she knows it merely looks as if it's lolling to the side.  _No hospital_ , she thinks, closing her eyes.  _No hospital._

"Get her to a hospital." Wolfgang is kneeling beside Lucy, his eyes stare at the makeshift bandage at Kala's exposed back, at her blood. His expression is raw, feral. He glares angrily at Jude. " _Get her to a fucking hospital!_ " 

Lucy is already springing up. "Don't move her; I'm getting help," she says, rushing out of the stall.

"They're already here, in Anjuna," Jude hisses back at Wolfgang. "They _must_ be!  A single shot fired at this hour? And Kala is hit? How the fuck do we protect her - protect your cluster- if we're just delivering her to them?" He looks down at Kala, at the bare and bloody back exposed to his view. " _Voi paska_ ," he mutters.  _Shit_. He gives a soft grunt. "We gotta go before Lucy comes back." He shifts to ease Kala onto her back, to gather her gently to him again.

"Don't fucking move her!" Wolfgang lays a staying hand on Jude's chest, body tense, as if ready to fight him off. Jude glares back at him.

"She wants to go."

Wolfgang shakes his head, shuffles to angle himself to look at Kala. He lifts her face with gentle hands.

She stares back at him with weary eyes, her breathing labored. He doesn't ask: He is in her place, and for a brief moment, she feels respite from the pain.

She stares back at Wolfgang on the dirt floor, a strange sight with his dark hair and face smeared with blacking. She sees the blood that stains Jude and purses her lips. She feels an echo of her agony, of her fear. But not for herself. "They can't find me, Wolfgang," she says to him softly. Her eyes look suspiciously bright. "Let Jude get me away before Lucy returns."

Then she is back in her own body, staring softly at Wolfgang. He kisses her forehead, touches his nose to hers. "Kala," he murmurs gently, kissing her cool mouth. " _Kala. Mai tumhe Bahut Pyaar karta Hunn." I love you so much_. She smiles weakly at that, closes her eyes. "You have to go to a hospital. _Bitte._ "

"You could bleed out if you _don't_ go to a hospital."

Wolfgang doesn't bother looking up at Jude...who is no longer Jude. This person shifts Kala to more easily rest along Jude's leg, pressing against the bandage to the entry wound; he struggles to single-handedly remove Jude's shirt to apply over the bandage to the exit wound that Lucy hastily made. "You're lucky the bullet didn't cut through a spinal cord or that big idiot would have done more harm than good, dragging you here like a ragdoll. You ok there? Kala, is it?" Kala gives a faint nod. "That bullet was small caliber and came in neatly, but it came out at an angle and no doubt tore through something with a lot of blood that's causing us some problems. Seems to have missed your lungs. Lucky, that. You'll likely survive this, but you gotta get to a hospital first." "Jude" looks back at Wolfgang. "That Lucy knows what she's doing; your girl needs to be patched up." He cocks his head, nods in the direction Lucy had gone. "They're almost here. We'll watch over her," he says.

Jude blinks, startled. "Fucking English."

Wolfgang stares back grimly. "Get her to the hospital," he says. "I'll take care of things."

He's gone just before Lucy returns with medics.

…

In St. Petersburg, Wolfgang sits in the passenger side of the car. They are parked at a drop-off point designated by Viktor, off the main road, away from cameras and other drivers. They are far away from the compound, waiting to meet one of Viktor's men.

Felix has just finished changing in the back seat of the car, his face clean and his clothes a casual pair of jeans and nice, light-colored dress shirt under a leather jacket. The guns - his and Wolfgang's - are in the glove compartment; their equipment, Felix's clothes, are in the backpacks in the trunk. He looks over at Wolfgang, who suddenly exhales from his seat. 

" _Wie geht es ihr?" How is she?_

Wolfgang wipes the black from his face with a wet cloth Felix hands him, shakes his head, gives a faint smirk, but his eyes, his entire bearing, are brittle. "Better than you were, that's for sure."

Felix nods his head.  _"Das ist gut." That's good._  He's silent as Wolfgang strips out of his shirt, throws an expensive designer t-shirt in an unusual salmon shade over his head, rolls it over his torso. He keeps his black jeans on, grabs the coat Felix hands him from the back seat. He's just finished when another car rolls into view: a white Russian 4×4 with two men inside. The license plate matches their info; the men inside are older, around Yeruslan's age, as Viktor had described.

Wolfgang grabs a bag from the front seat, pauses before a lifetime of habit asserts itself and he also opens the glove compartment and grabs a gun, shoves it behind him. He throws his coat on as he gets out of the car; Felix follows.

They wait for the car to pull alongside theirs. One of the men is on a phone, and it doesn't surprise Wolfgang when his own rings and Viktor is on the line. The two older men exit their vehicle, wait patiently while Wolfgang answers.

"You can give the proof to my men," says Viktor. "By the time you get back to the hotel, we'll have your return flight to New Delhi. We'll get the info to the client. He's ready to move-"

"Where's Whispers?"

There's a baffled silence before Viktor replies: "In Chicago still, I think." He pauses. "Is it time?"

Wolfgang doesn't hesitate. "Yes."

He can almost feel Viktor nodding on the other end of the line. "Ok," he says. "I'll tell the Tatar. You know he insists on doing the honors."

It's oddly comforting to learn his former handler is doing the job. " _Khorosho." Good._

Viktor pauses briefly before he asks: "Is there a reason why you need to do this now?"

"Kala's been shot." Viktor gives a muttered " _dermo_ ". "She must go to a hospital. He'll head here for sure. We can't wait for things to just unfold."

"I see."

"And if she doesn't make it," Wolfgang says, pausing. In his head, he can still see her, surprise and regret etched across her face, sitting in the back seat of the car, her hand, palm-up, damp with her blood. He can't erase the sight of her smooth, graceful back, marred by a thick pad of her own shirt, wet with so much blood; her vibrant face wan, weary with effort.

He knows the familiar pain of a gunshot wound - Wolfgang has survived one or two of his own - but he feels her pain, the sense of her life draining, and it makes him sick with fear for her. He remembers suddenly his fear in Berlin, that first day when she'd surprised him by arriving in person. The first time they'd touched, the first time they'd made love: He'd been afraid it would be taken away from him then. Wolfgang's face shifts tightly.

"If she doesn't make it," he says again, walking toward Viktor's men, the bag in his free hand, "don't kill him. Leave him for me."

…

Kala holds Jude's hand in the ambulance while the medics work on her, their faces blurred by her weakening vision. They look familiar. She's met so many people in Anjuna. Too many.

She'd heard Jude arguing with the medics to let him come with her. He tells them he's her fiance, and insists and insists until they give up and let him come with them. Lucy stays behind to give a statement to the police.

In the ambulance, they don't remove the compresses made by Lucy but clean around the wounds as best they can; they take her vitals, hook her to an intravenous drip, and monitor her heart beat.

Everything is a blur: the trip to the hospital, the arrival at the ER, the murmur of people - she thinks she hears Capheus and Sun - the preparation for surgery. She can feel the Cluster's presence, even as she hears an agitated Jude arguing with hospital staff.

She wakes in-transit to a room, the anesthesia not quite worn off, but an urgent voice prodding her awake through the drugged haze. It's Capheus.

...

"Jude."

Jude looks up, startled, half asleep, a magazine on his lap. The waiting area is busy, but beside him is an empty chair that Kala now sits in. She's in a hospital gown, looks groggy, weak, and he suddenly realizes she's not there in person; she's somewhere else in the hospital. 

"The ambulance that took me here... It's Whisper's men," she says. Her words are slurred, her face contorted with effort. "They're going to take me out of here... as soon as I'm put in a room. You need to stop them. Please help me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kala's experience (with the obvious exception of the sensate stuff) is loosely based on someone I know who was the victim of gun violence. I've added a new tag to this fic for the description.
> 
> Apologies for any language errors in Hindi, Russian, German, or Finnish: I didn't consult with my very generous friends this time, so it's not their fault if I've got something wrong:/ Please feel free to correct me, though; I always appreciate it!
> 
> And as always, thanks for reading. Comments are much appreciated!


	33. Help

Wolfgang stares intently at the road as he makes his way to Pulkovo International. It's not quite 7 in the morning on a work day but traffic is unusually light. Even so, he weaves in and out of lanes with hardly a glance at his mirrors, at a speed that should draw _politsiya_.

Felix glances nervously at him from the passenger seat but says nothing:  Viktor speaks in Russian over the car speakers about the flash drives and the disk and the letters delivered to his men that morning and tells them the items will be reviewed and “leaked”, as planned, as soon as possible. Tyotya Anna is also on the call, relieved that Wolfgang and Felix got what they came for; that everything went so smoothly (not quite true, but another reason to get the hell out of St. Petersburg before the _Vor_ realize what's happened).

Wolfgang barely gives two fucks.

“ _Naschet Matheson_?” he asks. _What about Matheson_?

There's a pregnant pause. “ _Proshlo_ ,” Viktor answers. _Gone_.

Yeruslan receives the message too late to set up a quick, neat shot from a sniper rifle while Matheson looks out of the window in his downtown hotel room, an easy target from several buildings away. Instead, the Tatar hurriedly swallows his dinner and scrambles to track a car that picks up Matheson at the hotel and drops him off at O’Hare Airport. Yeruslan loses him at O’Hare. At least for now.

Tyotya Anna is quick to assure Wolfgang that the Tatar will track Matheson down: It's what he does best.  But wherever Whispers is going, it is a last-minute decision.

Wolfgang hangs up with Viktor and his aunt.

Of course they all know where Matheson is going so suddenly, so last minute.  

Wolfgang can feel it: A black rage and a blinding panic simultaneously building inside of him.

He had been so sure. So fucking sure of himself.

He had everything covered: He’d put into play the chase for Whispers; planned for contingencies in the event he and Felix weren't successful; planned for contingencies in the event he didn't make it out of the compound alive. The Cluster would be kept together. Kala would be safe.

He didn't consider that Kala is still stuck in India; that Whispers’ men are still there, too. He'd been arrogant and did exactly what his uncle Sergei had done: discounted those men as irrelevant, beneath his notice. Acted as if Whispers’ physical presence is the only danger.

Wolfgang grips the steering wheel of the fancy sedan like a vice, jaw clenching, eyes staring down the road as if daring something - anything - to stop him. He's haunted by the suffering in Kala's liquid eyes, by the violence to her gentle back. He had felt her unrelenting pain and wishes she had let him endure it longer for her.  He would have done it forever for her.

" _Alter willst du uns umbringen?" Are you trying to kill us_?  Felix grabs onto the dash with one hand as Wolfgang overtakes a car too closely, rocking the sedan. “Slow the fuck down! Getting there faster won't make the plane leave earlier, you know.”

Wolfgang takes a breath and curses softly to himself. Felix hardly ever yells at him. “Yeah. Sorry,” he mumbles.

He can feel that something is very wrong at the hospital.

He visited twice: once in the ambulance, to assure himself that she isn't going to die; once, before surgery, to see her, kiss her, even if she doesn't know.

Surely he would have felt the break in their connection if something had gone wrong?

But the fear lingers and claws at Wolfgang, stronger than the anger.

“They lost Matheson,” he says to Felix.

“ _Sheisse_.” Felix looks at him with wide eyes. He doesn't say anything more. He doesn't need to.

Wolfgang tries not to think that he planned for every event, but in the end he can't protect her. In the end he has to rely on a junkie sensate and a cluster he fucking knows nothing about.

…

Kala rouses to the sensation of her fingers pinched by clamps, needles inserted into the veins in her arms.

A nurse tapes something along Kala's scalp and  talks to someone else; Kala peers groggily through her lashes at a second nurse, jotting notes onto a clipboard. Both nurses are women, a little older than herself: Neither notice she's awake.  

A furtive scan of the room indicates there's no one else there. Kala's eyes flutter shut: mind still foggy, body, numb; she has trouble breathing. She can feel herself connected to all sorts of machines, equipment, but is too hazy to think what they can be. In another hour, probably less, she knows the numbness will wear off and she'll return to the pain.  It took all of her energy to focus on Capheus and reach Jude, ask for help, but she has no idea where she is in the large hospital. Right now, she can barely grasp what is happening. 

The nurses speak Goan Konkani, and Kala can't follow their conversation, but they seem at ease, not as if they're prepping her to be taken by BPO. Kala forces her eyes to open slightly again, dart from one end of the room to another, noticing more monitors. She stifles an involuntary gasp of surprise.

Jude is at the foot of the bed, wearing fresh clothes, no longer covered in her blood.  He has his finger to his lips, warning her to stay quiet. “I'm trying to find you,” he says to her, listening intently. “Stay asleep.” Kala's eyelids close the fraction they're open; she'd forgotten that Jude speaks Konkani.

The nurses continue to go about their tasks pausing only to input information onto the clipboards, talking easily to each other.

Jude relaxes slightly. “You're in a telemetry room. I don't think these nurses work for BPO. They don't fully understand why you're here. The one that's attaching you to an EEG...she just asked why this is necessary for a gunshot victim with your injury. The other one doesn't know; just that they're orders."

From the uneven volume of his speech, Kala thinks Jude is walking around the room, but she doesn't dare open her eyes. She feels weak, leaden, but she wonders if she's lucid enough to remove herself from her body, just as she'd done at the lab.

“Hey! Stop what you're doing.” Jude's voice is urgent over the startled exclamations of the nurses. The second nurse walks quickly over to the bed and Kala feels a gentle tugging along her head. After several seconds, the nurses seem to relax again.

“The machine just went crazy,” says Jude, breathless. “I told you: You're hooked up to the EEG! If you're trying to visit, they'll know. Right now, they think there was just a misfire."

Of course. An EEG. She's hooked up to an EEG. In her head, Kala can picture the rows of wild scrawls that look like the writing of an angry toddler, and she almost lets out a nervous laugh. She's used more limited equipment on lab rats to test for cognitive impairment; she knows how sensitive the equipment is. She tries to suppress a sudden onslaught of panic at the thought of being trapped in her body.  

“Just breathe. Focus on your breathing. You won't set the machines off.”

Sun’s voice cuts through Jude’s running translation of the nurses’ conversation: Sun can't see or hear Jude, just as Jude can't see or hear Sun.

Sun tells Kala that Nomi is trying to locate the ambulance and the technicians. They will come back for her; move her to another facility.  Capheus had overheard the doctor being told there were orders, and to contact the ambulance service at the number given when Kala's surgery is done. It was the ambulance technicians - Whisper’s men - that pointed out some kind of standing medical order for additional monitoring. But Nomi can't trace the ambulance; the company that the vehicle purports to belong to has no such numbered unit. Amanita keeps an eye on who comes in and out of the hospital. So far, nothing unusual.

Over Sun's voice, Jude tells Kala that the EEG spiked again just a moment before but has now settled once more to something that one nurse murmurs looks like REM sleep activity. They note that Kala's vitals are weak, but understandably so given the nature of the trauma. They decide to keep a close watch on the patient.

“Is one of your Cluster here?” Jude asks suddenly. “Blink for me if someone is.”  He sounds close by her bed.  Kala presses her eyelids tight and relaxes them again. Sun pauses in her narrative, noting the small but deliberate movement.

“Ok. Good.” Jude sounds distant again. He curses abruptly in Finnish, and there's a sudden silence: Kala knows he's gone.

“Is Jude in the room?” Sun asks curiously. “Of course he must be,” she says. “You asked him for help. He must be looking for you.” Sun doesn't say anything for a moment, but Kala can feel her presence, her worry. “We're fortunate,” Sun says at last, “that he was at the market with you. That he is here, where we are not.”  Sun touches her arm, and Kala can feel gentle fingers stroke her hair. "We're doing everything we can."

The EEG flutters with anamolous spikes that cause the nurses to speak anxiously to each other again, confounded by the sudden activity followed by normal readings.

Sun is gone.

…

The nurse looks up at Jude and shakes her head,  but she points him towards an elevator and directs him to where the telemetry unit is located. With eyes full of empathy, she tells him she hopes his fiance is ok. Jude thanks her with a sincerely that isn't wholly feigned before he hurries to the elevator.

Wolfgang frowns, getting into the empty elevator with Jude. Jude is no longer half-naked, covered in Kala's blood: He's in a white polo and khaki shorts that Lucy had brought to the hospital earlier, at Jude's request, after she'd spoken with the police. He'd changed and washed up at the hospital during the wait for word on Kala's surgery; he sent Lucy home to rest. 

“I can't believe you get away with that shit,” says Wolfgang, noting the wave from the nurse. Jude waves back as the doors close.

Jude shrugs, a wry smile on his mouth. “You learn all sorts of tricks to feed a habit,” he says. An orderly with an empty gurney gets on at the next floor, and Jude says nothing more.

“Whispers left Chicago.” Wolfgang tells him. In St. Petersburg, he's at the airport terminal waiting for his flight, earpiece attached to his phone. Felix is getting them both coffee. They have at least another hour before they board. “The man who is supposed to follow Whispers lost him, but of course we expect he's coming back to India. We probably have no more than a day to get her to safety.”

Jude looks at him strangely, exits the elevator at the 3rd floor and pauses at the empty hallway. “We have less time than that,” he says. “But I'm not sure we can move her so quickly. The nurses say she's lost a lot of blood. I saw her. She's hooked up to so much." Jude shakes his head, grim-faced. "Turns out she did have a partially collapsed lung, from a broken rib. There's a tube sticking out of her, attached to a machine; IVs in her arms. Her spleen was damaged, that's why she bled so much. She's heavily sedated so she's not in so much pain. I don't know what to do when they come back for her.”

Wolfgang stills. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Jude stares back at him. “You don't know?”

It's evident he doesn't. Jude ducks into the empty men's restroom where he tells Wolfgang about Kala's visit; that the men in the ambulance are actually Whisper's men, that Kala knows they are returning for her soon. 

“Those men are coming back,” he says grimly. “I don't know when, but they'll be here soon, now that her surgery is done. And they'll release her to them. Patients are moved all the time. But I don't know how to just move her out of here; she's not stable yet."

Wolfgang paces in the men's room in the hospital, at the airport terminal in St. Petersburg. His mind wraps around this new urgency. He swallows the sickening fear. 

And there's only one thing for it.

“Stay with her,” he tells Jude. “Don't leave her alone.”

“Of course.”

In the terminal in St. Petersburg, Wolfgang stares at the planes taking off and landing, stirring only when Felix hands him his black coffee.

“You ok?” Felix asks.

Wolfgang shakes his head.  No. He's not ok.

Wolfgang takes his smartphone from his coat pocket and calls Viktor.  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks @scaredofuhlek for suitable German dialogue <3
> 
> This took awhile, so thank you so much for continuing to read!
> 
> As always, comments are much appreciated:-)


	34. Convergence

Everyone expects that Matheson will arrive in India in a day or two. Viktor assures his cousin that they'll be ready for him: The client is not yet apprised of the situation but will no doubt be anxious until eyes are back on Whispers, until he is permanently removed from the situation.

Wolfgang asks about the men still in India, and Viktor hesitates cautiously but tells him that Alexander's men are still in New Delhi; one or two of Viktor's remain in Mumbai.

"Can you send the men in Mumbai to Goa? To Anjuna? Immediately." Wolfgang asks outright.

"Anjuna?" Viktor repeats. "I presume this is to do with Ms. Dandekar. How is she?"

"She's alive, but she's in trouble." Wolfgang taps a finger impatiently against his coffee cup although his voice is calm and even, as if entrusting the information to Viktor and turning to him for help is the most natural thing in the world. "Matheson is sending his men to take her. I won't get there in time. There's someone already there who will do what he can, but I doubt -," Wolfgang stops, thinking of the appropriate words: "I doubt he has the skills necessary to stop them."

Viktor says nothing right away but Wolfgang doesn't elaborate; he knows Viktor understands. "My men don't negotiate, Wolfgang," Viktor finally states. "If that's the kind of assistance you need, you must say so."

"It is."

Silence again, and Wolfgang expects that he's been muted while Viktor talks to someone else. " _Da,"_ Viktor returns to the phone. "I'll send my men immediately. Just tell me where."

Wolfgang does so, naming the hospital and giving the room where Jude said Kala is kept.

"And what will this cost me?" asks Wolfgang, cutting directly to the chase, ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach and a mental image of a disapproving Kala. "What do you need from me in return?"

Wolfgang expects Viktor to shake it off with a typically flippant response. But instead, Viktor merely says: " _My rasschitaemsya schot, kogda pridet vremya."_

_We'll settle up the score when the time comes._

_..._

Jude is in the room when Kala next opens her eyes.

He talks to a nurse softly but with some urgency; Kala can just hear pieces of their conversation, maybe in English, but they're too quiet for her to know what they're saying. Or maybe it's because there's a dull ache in her head making concentration difficult. She watches them for no more than a few seconds before the roaring wave of pain that woke her returns with a vengeance. She can't prevent the low moan that escapes.

Another nurse - "Anu", on her name tag - is already beside her, speaking in soothing tones as she checks an intravenous line inserted in Kala's arm. Anu clamps the tubing and reaches for items on a tray beside the bed, just outside of Kala's full view, working diligently while Jude argues with both of the nurses about whatever medication is being administered. "That's in our orders," Anu says over Jude's protests. "She's in a lot of pain otherwise." Kala tries to focus on her breath; Anu empties the contents of a small vial into a syringe and mixes it with saline. "We'll watch to make sure she's not allergic."

Kala lurches in a sudden, violent motion, gasping harshly as the pain to her side, her back, her stomach, clenches brutally. Jude stops speaking mid-sentence, his eyes wide with worry as the second nurse hurries to the bed, reaches to draw Kala gently back down, mindful of the tubes and wires. The monitors beep and click furiously.

The nurse's tag identifies the second nurse as Sneha, and she tells Kala that they are giving her something to better manage the pain. Sneha keeps gentle but firm hands on Kala's shoulders as Anu works on Kala's other side: Kala can feel her arm being manipulated, tape and tubing removed or set aside. "We're giving you morphine," Sneha tells her, "it might burn a little or itch, but the relief will be immediate."

Through the haze of pain, Sneha's words slowly become cognizable to Kala, and it registers a new kind of panic. Kala shakes her head, agitated. She thinks Angelica used opiates to escape Whispers: If the morphine blocks the DMT...

Kala feels tears of pain and frustration on the edge of her eyelashes as the fear of being taken by BPO without the ability to reach the Cluster, to reach Wolfgang, sinks in. "No," she says, the word barely audible. Her eyes turn to Jude.

He knows: Jude, with his open history of drug addiction, understands what the morphine will do. "I told you she doesn't want it," he says with renewed urgency. "She needs something else. Kala, tell them."

But Anu has already inserted the needle into the injection port: Kala can feel a languid warmth spread through her, easing her pain in exchange for her connection.

Kala's awareness of the Cluster flickers and pops, like a light bulb finally going off. The EEG registers the curious spikes and blots before settling back to a range expected of a patient on a narcotic painkiller.

Kala can hear Jude arguing with Anu; she can hear Sneha calling for assistance. But Kala lays back against her bed, an unfamiliar languor creeping under her skin, easing one kind of pain for another: the echo of the break seeping into her soul just as surely as the morphine.

...

He loses his connection to her as he sits in his seat in business class next to Felix, waiting for the plane to finish boarding. There's a moment of utter panic before he recognizes that the sensation feels...different. Similar to Will's absence, but not as final? as permanent?

But instead of suddenly finding himself beside Kala at the hospital, Wolfgang is in San Francisco, where Nomi is curled on a sofa, arms around Amanita. For an awkward moment, he wonders if he's somehow interrupted a sexual encounter.  _Again_ , to be honest. But he realizes that Nomi looks drawn, her face tear-stained, and Amanita strokes her back, her hair, to console her.

The rest of the Cluster arrive within moments of each other, drawn to Nomi, anxiously eyeing Wolfgang: Capheus, Lito, Sun, Riley.

"Did everyone feel that?" Riley asks, looking directly at Wolfgang. Nods from everyone: tense, worried by a connection that has suddenly gone silent, even if it's not in the same way as Will's. "Kala's still alive," Wolfgang reminds them firmly. "And we still have a way to reach her, even if the connection is momentarily gone."

Riley nods as well. "Yes. Thank god for Jude."

Wolfgang gives a grudging,"Yes," and they can feel the frustration rolling from him that he's not there in Anjuna himself.

"But why are we here?" Sun's sharp eyes settle on Nomi. "Why have you reached out to all of us?"

"Because this is my fault." Nomi sits up from the cocoon of Amanita's embrace and turns to face the Cluster.

"Are they here, babe?" asks Amanita. She looks in the general direction of Nomi's stare and glares defiantly. "You can't blame her," she starts to say, but Nomi places a hand on her knee and shakes her head.

"It's my fault." Nomi repeats and looks at Wolfgang, her eyes gliding over the others. "It's my fault that Whispers found her. I fucked up, and he tracked Kala's laptop."

No one says a word as Nomi takes another breath. "I didn't set up a dummy account right away, as soon as she started researching Will's drug again. They knew her MAC address - that's like a computer's fingerprint. They figured it out from her home. As soon as she went on line, they were able to trace her." Nomi rubs her temples. "It's so simple to set up a dummy. So fucking simple and basic and I do it all the time. Except now. I didn't do it right away. I just…" She shakes her head.

"But she's had like  _zero_  sleep and does nothing but work on everyone's shit." Amanita throws a baleful glare that lands on Sun.

"It's ok," Capheus looks at Nomi in concern although he speaks reassuringly. "It's a mistake."

"And we fix it," adds Lito, looking directly at Wolfgang. "We can fix it. She's ok. Kala is ok, and the Russians have what they need to take down BPO now."

"That will take time, and I don't think Jude will be able to stop Whispers' men." Sun looks over at Wolfgang, eyes narrowing keenly. "You've made arrangements to protect her? Make sure she isn't removed from the hospital by BPO?"

Wolfgang stares back. In many ways, Sun is the easiest for him to understand: There is an undercurrent of controlled rage, a ruthlessness borne of survival, that he can feel around her. She fully expects that he will do whatever he must to protect the Cluster, just as she would.

He nods. "Of course. My cousin's men are on their way now."

"And Whispers?"

"They'll be waiting for him when he arrives in Mumbai."

Nomi sits up: "About that," she says, her voice more composed, more herself. "Matheson has a short detour. One day. In Moscow."

…

Felix looks over at Wolfgang and nudges him on the elbow. "Hey." He does this twice more before Wolfgang finally turns to face him instead of the view outside of the airplane window. With a start Wolfgang realizes that the plane has long-since taken off. "Hey," says Felix, looking relieved. "You've been gone awhile. Did you see how Kala's doing?"

Wolfgang looks at him a little distractedly, shakes his head. "No. I can't." He gives a frown. "Kala's on drugs for her pain; it blocks us. But I know she's ok for now. Jude is staying with her at the hospital. And Sun says Kala's awake. Or at least she was when Sun visited."

"The Korean lady?" Felix's face scrunches in concentration. 

Wolfgang smiles faintly. "Yes."

"And you're sure Kala's ok?" With everything that's occurred, Felix has pieced together the gist of what's happened to Kala, including the revelation that Whispers' men are planning to take her as soon as they can.

Wolfgang nods. "I think so. For now."

Felix gives him a dubious look. "I don't know about that Jude fellow," he says, sitting back to rest more comfortably in his seat. "For all he's got that big, muscle-y body, I don't think he can keep those two  _Wichser_  from taking her."

"Viktor is sending his men to help Jude. They're on their way from Mumbai."

The dubious expression only deepens, but Felix says nothing more for awhile. 

"So why were you gone so long?" he asks instead, changing the subject.

Wolfgang gives a sigh. He tells Felix about the break in the Cluster's connection with Kala, how he found himself in Nomi's place, and how they'd all been drawn by her feelings of guilt. Felix expresses his surprise at Nomi's lapse, but like the rest of the Cluster doesn't blame her: It seems inevitable that BPO would catch up to them eventually, especially stuck as they are in India. Wolfgang smirks a little since Felix hasn't really "met" anyone but has nonetheless formed a favorable (and not inaccurate) opinion of each member of the Cluster. Wolfgang shakes his head and offers no further information; they talk about other things discreetly.

When the plane lands in Moscow for its layover, Wolfgang gets out of his seat and reaches for the overhead bin that holds his carry on.

"What are you doing?" asks Felix suspiciously.

"Leaving." Wolfgang gives Felix a half-smile and shakes his head at the volley of questions and startled exclamations. "I need you to get back to India and make sure Kala is ok. Jude too."

"Well what the fuck!" Felix huffs. "And where are you going?"

"I'm staying here." Wolfgang grabs his bag and closes the bin. "I'll call you later. Good luck."

Felix glares back balefully. "You'd better," he says. It isn't like him not to argue, but Wolfgang knows it's because Wolfgang is practically radiating tension from the past 24 hours: the job at the compound; Kala's gunshot wound; Whispers' return to India. And now Kala can't be reached, and Whispers' men are coming to take her; the only one between them and BPO right now is Jude.

Wolfgang gives a sigh as he turns to exit the plane.

...

In another 24 hours, he's on top of a roof, on his stomach, a couple of blocks away from a fancy hotel. He watches the guests mingling for the lunch break of a business convention through the scope of a sniper rifle he'd picked up from one of Nomi's hacker contacts. Who knew.

The convention itself is essentially over: It's the weekend, but the last few days are parties and networking sponsored by the organizer, and most of the attendees remain.

In India, it's Anant Chaturdashi.

It's chillier than he expected and Wolfgang flexes his fingers, thinks again about how he's going to get out of there, doesn't think - can't think - about Kala, and what is happening to her. Only...He permits himself one small memory, and his mouth lifts at the corner.

Wolfgang looks at his watch, properly calibrated, in synch with his aunt's, who at that moment steps out onto the balcony of that hotel, accompanied by three other men. One of them is Matheson. On time.

Wolfgang grimaces. From the looks of things, Matheson is flirting outrageously with her, engaging her and being engaged in return.

"Dude, your aunt is kinda hot."

He turns his head slightly to the right, eyebrows lifting. He smiles faintly but chooses to ignore the deliberately provocative comment. "It's been forever since you've visited me.  _Willkommen,"_  he says. "Are you ready?"

Will grins back, stretches his arms and rolls his neck. "Fuck yeah," he says, giving a quick exhale. "Let's go."

And Will lies stretched on the roof of an office building in Moscow, eyes squinting into the scope of a sniper rifle. He makes a few adjustments and waits for Wolfgang's signal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are near the end! Thank you to KinoGlowWorm for checking my Internet Russian. And thank you for your patience and continuing to read! As always, comments are much appreciated!


	35. Waiting, Part 1

Kala stirs uneasily awake, the morphine making her feel equal parts giddy and nauseous. She squeezes her eyes shut, moves her head gently, but her stomach lurches in protest. It takes her a moment of utter stillness before she's confident she won't be sick.

She opens her eyes cautiously. The bed is partially raised, and she sits up a little further, giving a slow, careful tilt of her neck first one way, then the other. She's alone in the room. Only the faint beeps and clicks of the monitors break the silence. The clock on the wall tells her she's been asleep for hours; it's been nearly 10 since the market this morning.

Kala can feel a dull but pulsing burn beginning to thrum at her side; an ache for now, not quite painful. In the back of her head, she can also feel a tightness, a pull, familiar and faint but insistent: the Cluster trying to reestablish its connection. Kala tentatively tries to focus, pinpoint who could be reaching out to her, but nothing - no one -  is there, and she wonders if it's merely a biological function, her body returning to normal: like a straightened curl, coiling in humidity.  She wants to giggle at the analogy, finding the mental image of the Cluster bouncing around like her curls highly amusing.

The sudden, shooting pain from the back of her head to some point between her eyes kills her amusement, drops her back against her pillows, and makes her stop even the cautious effort to reconnect. She'd forgotten… Kala raises a hand quickly to her head but doesn't feel netting or any electrodes. Scheisse. The foreign word sits oddly on her tongue, but the fact that it's come, unbidden, means her connection is bound to return soon, thank the gods. She almost giggles again before she wonders why the electrodes are gone: Is it because of Jude? Or fake orders from BPO?

It's almost evening, and Kala remembers that Whispers’ men will be there soon. Perhaps it's the effect of the morphine, but there is no fear in the thought.

She takes a careful inventory of what she's connected to, wonders if she can disconnect things and escape with Jude's help. Wolfgang managed to drag an unconscious Felix from a hospital’s intensive care unit, and while she is admittedly weak and groggy, she's in better condition than Felix had been.

Kala stares at the monitors and tubes and IVs connected to her, trying to read labels although her vision is oddly unfocused: antibiotics, mixed with another fluid on a Y-line; morphine sulfate, although nothing there at the moment; heart monitor with the sensor clipped and taped to a finger. She lifts the sheets: a catheter. All removable or transportable.  But...Kala notices a small tube coming from under her other arm, connected to a device; she frowns because she recognizes it isn't merely a cannula, but a drainage tube.

Kala stares at the white-tiled ceiling, fighting through the fog and vague euphoria of the medication. She's not sure if she can run with a drainage tube still inserted in her body. She doesn't know how to remove that. She wonders if Lucy does. Her thoughts chase each other in a useless loop, but in her head she knows she can't really risk running. Not so soon after surgery.

Kala examines this conclusion curiously, turning it around in her mind like a three-dimensional object before she tires.

Kala closes her eyes to rest. And waits.

...

Jude is in the room, pacing in agitation by the foot of her bed. It's his occasional burst of rapid Arabic that wakes Kala up. She watches him silently, a frown creasing her forehead, before he grows quiet, then turns suddenly to face her.

“You're awake,” he says in English. He sounds distinctly relieved. “How are you feeling?”

“Horrible,” she says, grimacing. Kala gives a faint smile at Jude's clearly worried expression. “Like someone who was shot this morning, to be precise.”

He doesn't return her smile. He nods his head, still frowning, and runs a distracted hand through his long hair.

He says something again to someone she can't see, but knows is his cluster-mate, Farah, the refugee. Kala's lips tighten at the sudden realization that she is a danger not only to her cluster but to Jude's as well. She knows who they are. She knows who they all are. Kala suppresses her guilt and eyes Jude with renewed worry.

He shakes his head at whatever Farah tells him. “We have a problem,” he relays, pacing. “I was talking to the nurses earlier; they told me you are going to be assigned a shared room upstairs. They know nothing about you being transferred, and there's no reason to do so: This is a very state-of-the-art hospital. But the doctors were also  talking, and there are unexplained ‘aberrations’ to your EEG, just as your medical order said there would be.” He pauses at Kala's protests, nods his head in agreement. “I know that order is all shit; I would have confronted them, but it wasn't me that heard this, it was Farah.” He shakes his head, green eyes darting uneasily around them. “A doctor called the number the medics left to confirm the EEG results and they are debating whether you should be released. The guys that took you here are on their way.” Jude turns back to Kala: “The medical order says if the results match, you're to go to a special facility that can handle whatever abnormalities the EEG picked up. There's also something about your blood and urine samples. They're not quite right either.”

Kala clenches the bedsheet, lets out an involuntary sound of distress.  Elevated levels of DMT are present in her blood and urine. Not enough to suspect she has a psychosis, which is commonly linked to the chemical. Not enough to suspect abuse of the psychedelic, because trace amounts are present in humans.

But enough to trigger the psycellium. High enough to confirm a suspicion if someone is looking for precisely the amounts she knows from her own testing exist in her bloodstream... and in Will's and Riley’s and likely everyone in her Cluster. Results are a little different with Jude. Kala's thoughts drift distractedly to the tests she'd been working on just the day before, tests pulled from the information she'd taken from Rajan's company.

Jude's grim statement brings her back: “You're not yet stable according to the doctor in charge, but that ambulance is coming for you. They'll be here within the hour.” He stares at Kala and shakes his head: “This was all deliberate,” he says, clearly voicing an idea he's been debating all day. “They had you shot to confirm their suspicions; not enough to kill you, but serious enough to keep you from leaving. Those medical orders look official. It's very precise: what your tests results will look like. And now that they know…” He shakes his head, assesses the equipment attached to Kala. “We can't hide you like this. I can't just take you.”

“We’ll protest, just like regular people would.” Her voice is calm and rational, but Kala's heart beats nervously in her chest. “That's all we can really do. But if they take me, you must make sure they give me the morphine. I don't want to risk a substitute, although we'd insisted on one before. I don't know if that will be enough. Make sure that I get the morphine.”

She'd thought about this once she realized she couldn't run: It's better to make a break so that Whispers can't connect with the Cluster. And,she thinks, an edge of guilt framing her thoughts, Whispers can't know about Jude.

Kala grits her teeth against a tight ache that is now blossoming into a twisting stab across the length of her left side. She gives a short exhale, regains her composure before she says simply:“But first, we just tell the hospital I have no wish to move anywhere. Let's see what they do.”

Jude nods slowly, lets out a steadying breath. “The doctor and the head nurse don't want to move you. They'll support you if you want to stay. I don't think you can be released without their approval, over your objection.” He looks at her oddly. “But if they try, we need to stall for time. Wolfgang says he has men he's sent to help.”

Kala frowns, her mind racing with the fear that pronouncement suddenly brings. _What does that mean?_ she wants to ask.

Instead, she sits up in a sudden rush of pain, head pounding. Jude is there in quick steps. The heart monitor beeps Kala's increasing distress, and Jude looks up, half expecting the nurses to come in, but no one does. He lays Kala gently back to the bed.

“This isn't right,” he murmurs, looking around and fidgeting toward the door. “I know you don't want the morphine now, but maybe you should take it again.  There's nothing your Cluster can help you with now.”

“Not yet,” murmurs Kala breathlessly. She can feel it, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle clicking into place: that very empty spot - that hole - filling again, even if it isn't quite complete. “Not yet.”

He hesitates uncertain. “Are you sure you're alright?”

Kala nods. “Yes,” she assures him. Jude frowns, glances outside the glass panel to the hallway.

“Don't get them.” Wolfgang’s accented English stops Jude mid-track. “Not yet.”

Wolfgang sits beside Kala on the bed. He cups a hand to Kala's face, sweeps a gentle thumb along her cheek. “ _Schatzi_ ,” he murmurs softly. “ _Mein Herze_.” Her breath is ragged with effort, but he can feel her relief in rejoining the Cluster. They all can.

Kala leans her face into his hand. She doesn't notice anyone but Wolfgang, although she can feel their mental presence. The profound satisfaction it brings almost offsets the physical pain of Kala's wounds. She looks up at Wolfgang, suddenly tired again, but pleased to see him. She hasn't seen him since the morning. “Wolfgang,” she says. She notices the shadows across his face, the tension about his mouth. “Are you ok?” she asks, worry stealing into her voice. She reaches up to brush the dark hair that sticks defiantly up on his head.

Wolfgang gives a crooked smile. It is like her to ask, as she lays in a hospital bed, attached to machines, whether he is ok.  

Yes,” he answers. “But you...” His voice hitches. She looks wan and pale and an imitation of herself. But she's awake and alive and the way that she looks at him... He would do anything for her.  He kisses her gently on the lips. Her mouth is cold; lips cracked. She touches her forehead to his. A movement catches her attention and she raises her head to look up, just past Jude.

Nomi hangs back, reluctant to interrupt, but uncertain how much longer Kala can last without painkillers. “Kala,” she says, stepping forward purposefully.

“Nomi.” Kala feels the heavy burden of Nomi's guilt and shakes her head, preempting whatever apology is about to be said. “Don't. There's no need. We were both so excited, so careless with how we could help Will.” She releases a hiss of pain but manages to keep her expression even. “I don't blame you. I don't.”

Nomi's face is taut, but she nods her head: She can feel Kala's sincerity, and in any case, this isn't the time to bare souls and confess sins. Nomi watches as Kala sits back against her pillows, the relentless burning to her left side - much stronger now- bouncing and echoing through all of them.

“I told Wolfgang about the serum,” she says abruptly. “We have a plan. But we need to know if it's ok; if the serum will hold.”

Kala's brows knit in confusion, struggling to think clearly over the effort of containing her pain, but she suddenly shakes her head. “Don't tell me,” she says tightly. “I already know too much. I don't want them to suspect, and the ambulance is on its way. ”

Wolfgang lets out a soft curse. “How far?”

“They're closer than you think.” Capheus moves to sit at the foot of the bed. Kala can feel his residual connection to Nomi; that he'd stayed with her physical presence in San Francisco. “We found the ambulance, and it is about 30 minutes away. How far away are your cousin's men?” He directs this last question to Wolfgang.

Kala's brows knit deeper, suddenly reminded of her earlier fear. “The men you're sending?”

“Viktor's. They're coming to protect you.” Wolfgang locks eyes with Kala, wary, and she knows this is one of the reasons why he looks tense and grim. “Their plane just landed in Goa, but they still need to drive here. About 50 minutes, maybe longer.”

“The ambulance is closer to 30,” says Capheus, shaking his head. “Nomi can't delay them with the traffic light trick. They'll just turn on their siren.”

“But I can try something else,” Nomi says cryptically. “I'll fix this.”

“Nomi.” Riley places a staying hand on Nomi's wrist, side-eyes Kala cautiously. She murmurs something to Nomi that Kala can't hear, and for a moment, Nomi's mouth is agape.

But Kala is too distracted by the mention of Viktor's men to catch the exchange, or to notice Nomi's subsequent disappearance. “There can't be a gunfight here, Wolfgang,” she says, barely finding her voice. “This is a hospital!”

Wolfgang shakes his head. His face is implacable. “Viktor's men will make sure you don't go, but they're not stupid. None of these men are stupid. There won't be a gunfight. But there could be something else.”

In a flash she's aware of every scenario that has plagued Wolfgang's mind since learning BPO will come for her tonight; can feel his fear for her overriding every other concern.  

Kala grits her teeth, eyes closing as the pain continues to come in full force. The heart monitor is beeping rapidly, and Jude looks between her and Wolfgang, his expression anxious.

“Why haven't the nurses come?” Riley moves to stand by the door, looks out the glass panel, and scans the hall for the nurses that must surely be coming in response to the monitor. “She's in a lot of pain. Last time, they were here already, checking her. Something’s not right.”

Jude unknowingly mimics Riley’s action. He opens the door and steps outside, scanning for staff on their way to the room. The corridor is eerily quiet. He reenters, and his face is suddenly deeply suspicious. “Shift change,” he says tensely.  “There's a shift change. New nurses.”

“Do you think BPO has people here?” Wolfgang looks down in surprise: Kala holds his hand, squeezes it lightly as he asks the question.

Jude shakes his head. “No way to tell.” He looks over at Kala. “I'm getting you some morphine. Just in case.”

Wolfgang looks back at him. “Do you need my help?” he asks.

Jude gives a mirthless laugh. “To steal some drugs from a hospital? No. That won't be necessary.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience: I know it's been a long time between chapters :/
> 
> Part 2 will post on Tuesday. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! And as always, comments are much appreciated :)


	36. Waiting, Part 2

Jude returns to the room 10 minutes later.

“I have them,” he says, taking the vials of morphine out of his pocket and displaying them to Kala in his hand. “I even brought you a needle.” He shows her a syringe in its sterile package.

The pain had been too much.

Sun lies against the pillows, in Kala's body, a look of intense concentration on her face. It is already lights out at the prison, and she knows how to manage pain. Kala lies beside her on the bed, weak, recovering her composure.

Sun and Kala turn their attention to Jude.

“Thank you,” Sun says gratefully. She looks around. “No nurses?”

“I came across two in this wing,” Jude frowns, pocketing his cache. “I asked them why no one came although the heart monitor was showing your distress. They said it is symptomatic of your special condition, and told me not to worry. If you need something, you call for help. That is what they were told. They seem surprised it wasn't explained to me.”  

“Who told them that?” asks Sun.

“The new doctor in charge tonight, and the head nurse.” He shrugs. “As I thought: shift change. They're following protocol from the damned medical order, but I don't think they're with BPO. The nurses talked about them like they've been here awhile.”

Sun frowns but otherwise concentrates on inhaling and exhaling to power through the worst of the pain. She eyes Jude with less wariness, although she still doesn't believe in fully disclosing information relative to their Cluster.  

Jude notes the whiteness along her mouth, suggests an alternative pain killer, one that probably won't interfere with her connection. But Sun shakes her head. “I'm fine,” she says, right before Kala places a gentle hand on her shoulder, returns to her body despite Sun's disapproval. “I don't want to take anything until I assure them I'm making a clear-headed decision,” she tells Jude.

He nods, gets up to pace again. “And thank you,” Kala murmurs to Sun.

Doctor Shah visits them not 5 minutes later, accompanied by a resident and two nurses. Dr. Shah is relatively young, condescending. He has the resident take the assessment before telling Kala that she will be transferred elsewhere for further treatment.

She shakes her head. “No,” she says firmly. “I refuse treatment elsewhere.”

The resident looks nervously at Dr. Shah; the nurses grimace and exchange glances.

“Kala,” says the doctor with a weary sigh, as if expecting her childish reticence, “your test results show you require treatment that we are not equipped to provide. There's a standing medical order-”

“Is it the aberration in frontal lobe activity from the EEG, and the dimethyltryptamine results from my body?”  Kala watches, impressed, from the farthest corner of the room as Lito takes over, outraged and somehow managing to also look contemptuous.The doctor is visibly taken aback by Lito's vehemence, and Lito presses forward: “I never should have agreed to be a subject in that ridiculous study. A bunch of charlatans those people are!”

Jude sits up a little, eyes her closely: Kala's mannerisms, the way she gesticulates with her hands, the cadence of her speech...

“Now they follow me everywhere!” Lito says, indignant. “I signed one little piece of paper, and they think they own me: They plague me when I need treatment for anything!” Lito gives a sudden hiss, struggles to control the pain. “Well,” he continues after a moment, “if my choices are to be released to those researchers or go home, you'd better release me now. I refuse to go with them. And I don't care if I die instead!”

Kala cringes a little from the corner.

Jude peers closely. The doctor blusters his objection and consults with his entourage. Lito catches Jude staring hard and winks.

Dr.  Shah returns his attention to Kala, a look of deep concern on his face. “I don't know what to tell you,” he says. “I agreed to release you to the care of -”

“Those con men?” Jude interrupts, noticing the sudden tightness to Kala's mouth. Whomever is in her body is also feeling the very real pain she endures. Jude rises from his seat, his large frame causing Dr. Shah to step back involuntarily. “My fiancé has suffered enough from their experiments, all because of some benign aberrations. You may keep her here, or you release her to go home. She doesn't give her consent for any other treatment. And if you try, I will complain to every agency available.”

Dr. Shah looks stymied. The resident stammers weakly that Dr. Ben had some questions about the order; Dr. Shah shakes his head. “I guess we can explain it to your doctor,” he says uncertainly to Kala.

“He is not my doctor,” Lito says emphatically.

Dr. Shah murmurs something and exits the room with the resident and nurses. They speak animatedly on the way out.

Jude looks at Kala curiously. Lito smiles beatifically back. “ _Chistoso_ ,” says Lito, before another bout of pain causes him to clench his fists. He glances apologetically at Kala - “ _Lo siento, hermana_ ” - before he return her body to her.  

“Are you sure you're ok?” Jude asks.

Kala nods. “Yes.” She smiles faintly. “I feel like a tennis ball, but that went well.”

“Yes,” he agrees, slightly confused. “Your Cluster?”

Kala nods.  “And we have some time before the men arrive.” Nomi carefully disrupts traffic along the path of the ambulance: The siren is useless if the vehicle can't get around suddenly chaotic intersections, and Nomi updates the progress of the ambulance. “I'm not sure how much time, but hopefully enough for Wolfgang's people.”

 _This_ news...Kala suppresses the terror it causes.  She is petrified that Wolfgang bargained for the use of Viktor's men, and she is chilled by what that means.

But one step at a time.

Jude nods, takes the information in stride although he fidgets a little. At least, Kala reminds herself, Whispers is nowhere near; that he is in fact heading to Moscow first. She suspects that whatever plan Nomi mentioned involves Moscow, but is afraid that knowing will only make her an even greater risk to the Cluster if she's taken.

A nurse comes with Kala's dinner. It's a liquid meal of soup and biscuits, and Kala tries to eat, but is in too much pain to consume the light meal. The nurse offers her morphine or an alternative mixed narcotic, both of which Kala rejects. The nurse purses her lips together and shrugs.

When Whispers’ men finally arrive with Dr. Shah, there's almost a sense of relief in thinking her moment has come: Kala has wasted too much time imaging it happen.  

Kala vaguely recognizes them; the beefier of the two had been the one to administer the fluids in the ambulance. The men roll an odd looking gurney with them. Jude rises protectively from his seat beside her, pauses and thrusts his hands into his pockets.

Wolfgang stands on the other side of Kala, as does Sun who looks at him with an enigmatic stare. It is Sun's breathing, her focus that Kala channels, even as Kala holds Wolfgang's hand for support. Lito is at the corner Kala occupied earlier, watching, ready to intervene if necessary.  

“Kala, I've been advised that your aberrations are potentially life-threatening,” Dr. Shah tells her. He sounds simultaneously upset and alarmed. “Your brain scan-”

“Shows a merging of the hemispheres,” Kala finishes. It had worked for Lito to go on the offensive. “I still refuse. I'll sign whatever you want to release this hospital from liability, but I'm not leaving with them.”

“I'm afraid you must.” Dr. Shah shakes his head at the series of unfortunate coincidences: “We have a very capable chief neurosurgeon, but he called in very ill today, and there's no facility nearby that I am aware of that can look at your case, let alone resolve this. You need an operation immediately, I can't stress enough how dire your situation is.”

“She has no wish to leave with them.” Jude's voice is firm. He reaches and holds Kala's hand, effortlessly sliding the syringe and two morphine vials to her.  “We can wait until your neurosurgeon is back and get a second opinion.”

“There's no time for that.” The technician glances at his partner, looks over at Dr. Shah. “We're ordered to fly her back to Mumbai. There's a special medical flight chartered to take her. If you look at the standing order, you'll see that it authorizes us to remove her for her own health and safety.”

“If she's not lucid,” Jude interjects. “Which she obviously is.”

The second technician moves to the other side of her bed, dragging the gurney, pausing just outside of Wolfgang's and Sun's space. “The very fact that her brain is merging hemispheres calls into question any kind of lucidity,” Dr. Shah murmurs, scanning a document that is likely the order in question.

“Exactly,” says the first technician. He approaches the bed, but Jude refuses to move from Kala's side.

“I refuse,” she says steadily.

Dr. Shah grimaces, looks from Jude to Kala to the order in his hand. “This is highly unorthodox,” he says, aggrieved. He frowns at the technicians. “I'll be back in a moment. Let me make some calls,” he says, exiting the room. “Don't do anything until I return.”

The technician frowns at Jude. He's just as large and not intimidated. “Sir,” he says quietly, dropping pretense, “I don't give a shit who you are. You need to let us take her, or this will not go well with you.”

“No.” It's Jude who says it, but Kala blinks in some confusion. She can feel Wolfgang's controlled rage: it bleeds into her, and maybe Jude, she thinks.

The technician looks at his partner on the other side of Kala. His partner prepares a needle.

“Touch me and I will scream!” says Kala angrily, releasing Wolfgang's hand to move her arm as far away from the partner as the IV line permits.

Wolfgang's eyes narrow; he gives a satisfied grunt. “They're here,” he says.

The door opens and closes with a quiet click. There is a moment of silence as they take in the two men.

“Madam,” says a slender gentleman in a crisp gray suit. Tattoos are visibly peeking from under the collar of a white linen shirt and on his hands; his larger partner is similarly dressed, similarly tattooed. He takes a quick sweep of the room. “Might we be of service?” His English is rough, heavily accented.

“Yes,” says Kala, relief  - relief, she thinks, ironically - flooding her. “Yes, please! Thank you!”

The technicians eye each other. The larger one with the needle finishes his prep, reaches for Kala.

Jude reaches across the bed and grabs his hand, stays him. Wolfgang's face looks furious; it's with some curiosity that Kala thinks his arm and Jude's have merged.

“Don't, Brother,” advises the slender Russian to the technician with the needle, his tone grim. “Do not touch the lady.”

“That one has a gun,” Sun observes calmly, nodding in the direction of the technician by Jude. Kala notices what looks like the outline of a handle peeking from an inside pocket. “And so does he.” Sun tilts her chin at the slender Russian. For one horrifying moment, Kala wonders if they're both about to pull a gun.

Instead, there's only a tense, eerie silence while the men size each other up. The man with the needle wrests his arm away from Jude but doesn't try to reach for Kala again.

“Don't get involved in things that don't concern you,” the technician tells Viktor's men. “You have no idea.”

The slender Russian shrugs. “It matters to the one who sent us. So it's our concern too,” he says evenly. Kala finds that she again grips Wolfgang's hand. The technicians exchange tense looks.

Dr. Shah enters with his resident behind him. Two large, very capable, and armed, security guards are there as well, and Kala is reminded that for all its idyllic location, this hospital is used to dealing with drug problems and their ancillary issues.

“And who are these gentlemen?” Dr. Shah asks, suspicious.

There's a brief pause: “Family,” says Jude. “I called them here.”

“Indeed.” Dr. Shah stares hard. "How did you get in?" he asks.  

The slender Russian shrugs. "They let us," he says simply.

Dr. Shah shakes his head, disbelieving, but too preoccupied with the situation at hand to make more issues. “I've spoken with Dr. Ben, who performed your surgery,” he tells Kala. “He doesn't want to release you tonight. He is taking the drainage tube out tomorrow morning, and he wants to see how you do. He also seems a little suspicious of the brain scan, how that wasn't noted in your order.” Dr. Shah turns his attention to the technicians. “I'm sorry, but we're concerned that we meet the express instructions of our patients. You may have Dr. Matheson contact me directly.”

The technicians stand, uncertain.

“Were you about to give my patient some medication?” Dr. Shah suddenly notices, his voice outraged. He gestures to the security guards who flank the man hovering over Kala. The Russians smirk back.

The technicians back away from the bed, the gurney following noiselessly behind.

“Dr. Matheson will call,” promises the first technician. “We'll be back.”

“I hope he does,” says Dr. Shah darkly. “I have some words for him myself.” He waits, following behind with the resident, security guards escorting the techs.

“ _Joder_ ,” exhales Lito. He shakes his head in disbelief.

There's a collective relief that escapes from the Cluster: Even Jude feels the lightness in tension. “I don't trust they won't try something later,” he says uneasily.

“Neither do I,” agrees Wolfgang.

“Nor I,” says Sun.

“We stay with you tonight, Madam,” says the slender Russian. “Until you leave the hospital.”

Kala presses her lips firmly and nods her head; Jude does as well. “Whose orders?” she asks the Russians quietly.

“Kala.” Wolfgang grips her hand.

The Russians give her an amused look, take up spots at the door and on the seat by her bed,vacated by Jude. “Vor,” says the slender one.

Kala's brows furrow, and she steals a glance at Wolfgang. He stares back.

She lays against her pillows, tired, and gestures to Jude with her other hand. He surreptitiously takes the drugs and syringe from her, puts them back in his pocket.

“Are you sure?” he asks for the 100th time, and Kala smiles faintly.

“Yes,” she answers.  She can't have a conversation now, in the presence of the Russians, but she looks up at Wolfgang. “And I understand,” she says, “but we will talk when this is all over.” Her worried eyes soften as they look at him.

Wolfgang nods. 

…

Wolfgang stands calmly next to Will, occupying his body, prostrate on a rooftop in Moscow. Will is peering through the scope of a sniper rifle at the people on a balcony some distance away.

Wolfgang’s mind drifts a little to the hospital where Kala is recovering, her drainage tube removed hours ago. She'd taken aspirin to dull her pain so she could sleep last night, but it hadn't been enough. This morning she'd finally taken morphine and was still intermittently sleeping off the effects. The Cluster was again down one of its eight. But before she'd broken contact, she'd told Jude somewhat blearily that she loved Wolfgang, much to the confusion of the nurses. Wolfgang smiles at the memory. He'd been present, beside Jude.

Whispers had been furious at yet another unexpected complication. He'd exchanged angry words with Dr. Shah. He would have foregone the layover in Moscow if he could have avoided it, but his patron was eager to show him off to another potential investor.

“Are you sure he can't tell?” Wolfgang asks Will.

Will pauses, tentatively feeling the tether linking him to Whispers: Whispers doesn't register that his connection to Will is being decoyed. “About as sure as I can be, buddy. Your hot aunt is keeping him busy.”

Wolfgang gives a faint huff. He's silent for just a second. “You're sure you can do this?” he asks. “It's been awhile.”

Will lets out an annoyed grunt. “Dude, I'm good.”

Nomi stands beside Will. “Your ten minute window is closing,” she reminds them, as if either needed the reminding. In an apartment in the Hebrides, Riley sits beside Will, ready with a shot of the stronger serum in case Whispers breaks through. With Matheson actively engaged in conversation, they doubt he'll try anything, but once he feels the serum wearing off…

“Six minutes left.” Wolfgang looks down at his watch. “As soon as you have a clean shot, just do it.”

“I will.”

Two other people are with Anna and Whispers on the balcony. A man in a black jacket, jeans, stands very close to Matheson. Too close.

“Fuck.”

Anna talks animatedly to Matheson, subtly maneuvering him so he is apart from the small group. She says something to one of the men and he leaves the balcony.

Anna is left with Matheson and the man in the black jacket.

The gentleman never moves far, and he blocks a clear shot.  Anna talks to both of them.

“Fuck.”

“Two minutes.” Riley is anxious; they're really not certain how long the serum can mimic the connection. Ten minutes was the point where Whispers was always at the edge of their consciousness, and they didn't have the courage to wait longer. “You need to take the shot.”

“I don't know what the fuck Anna is doing. Why doesn't she get rid of him?” Frustration sets into Will's voice. “Black Jacket isn't going anywhere. He keeps moving with them.”

“Wait. . . Right there.” Wolfgang tenses.

Will notices, too: an opening. The man in the jacket hangs back at something Anna says. Matheson partially turns away and leans a little against the rail.

Will pulls the trigger.

It is eerily quiet for a shot: The “pop” of the discharge hardly registers. Will's right shoulder kicks back a little, absorbing the repercussion, and Wolfgang feels it in his right shoulder, too. It reverberates among the Cluster.

And even as he feels the kick, Wolfgang sees Tyotya Anna grab Black Jacket by his lapels to stand beside Matheson.

Just in time for the bullet to go through Black Jacket’s temple and out his jaw, grazing Dr. Matheson’s chin, smattering some blood and bone and bits of brain in the process onto Anna and Whispers.

“Fuck! _What the fuck_!”

Whispers looks surprised.

Whether from the assassination he just witnessed, or because Anna steps forward to calmly shove him over the rail of the balcony, falling 25 floors into a Moscow street, Wolfgang can't tell.

In his head he can feel the collective shock of the Cluster. His own heart is racing.

But Wolfgang blocks it all out. He's back in his body, packing his materials quickly and making his escape.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this chapter's curse word of the day comes from Miguel Angel Silvestre, via Instagram :-) Gracias, Miguel! 
> 
> Thank you for reading! And as always, comments are much appreciated.


	37. The Russians

Wolfgang makes his way nimbly from the roof to an alley to a side street and disappears into the metro. In less than 40 minutes, he is holed up in a nondescript motel, picked for him by Tyotya Anna.

Six other voices clamor in his brain, want to know if he knew it was going to happen, furious they've been played, anxious that they'll be dragged into a worse situation than they're already in. He shuts them out for a moment while he manages his own sense of anger. They leave him alone.

Wolfgang takes a cold shower more out of habit than need; stands under the water longer than necessary. He's icy when he comes out but hardly notices and throws on some clothes only because he should.

Wolfgang grabs a beer purchased earlier and opens it, turns on the tv and sits on his bed while he waits for Anna to call. He's on his second bottle and smoking a cigarette when the news comes on.

Black Jacket’s name was Anatoly.

The name seems familiar, and the shudder that ripples through the Cluster reminds Wolfgang why: Early on, Nomi identified him as someone Viktor dealt with regularly, exchanging all those undisguised email messages. He was the _vor_ dealing in drugs.

The news rambles on that Anatoly was a well-known businessman, married, three children. He recently dabbled in politics, aligned himself with people of some influence: Power brokers. Lobbyists. Deputies of the _Gosduma_. He split his time between an apartment in Moscow and an estate just outside of St. Petersburg.

Wolfgang nods. _Of course_.

It's an open secret that Anatoly was a _vor_. There is rampant speculation as to who ordered the hit.

Wolfgang takes the last drink of his beer before chasing it down with the cigarette.

Tyotya Anna floats on screen, flanked by Dyadya Sasha and Yeruslan. Wolfgang looks on with some interest, never having seen his Uncle Alexander in person. He's a large man in a crisp black suit, a full head of longish gray hair; precisely the kind of man he would have guessed was Anna's type. He puts Wolfgang in mind of a German wrestler he used to watch on TV as a kid; it's even more apparent that his and Viktor's lighter, chiseled looks come from their mothers’ side of the family.

Anna looks distraught, refuses to speak with reporters as she's escorted away from the police station, clutching her husband's arm. As they walk by, the reporters identify Anna and Alexander as business associates: mention that Anatoly was killed in front of her, that she witnessed his body knock over some unfortunate man leaning against the railing. She didn't know who the man was; just that he was a guest of Anatoly’s.

His smartphone rings and Wolfgang mutes the TV, takes a breath as he looks at the screen and answers.

“Did you have any problems?” Tyotya Anna sounds her usual concerned, maternal self. The news footage was from an hour ago.

“What the fuck did you do?” His tone is quiet, but there's an undercurrent of anger. “That man you pushed in the way so he took the bullet instead of Whispers? That's your ‘business associate’.”

She makes an impatient noise. “What does it matter? The doctor from that company is dead. This way, it looks like his death is an accident: collateral damage.” She pauses, as if waiting for Wolfgang to acknowledge the truth of the statement, sighs when he says nothing. “Our interests aligned. The police don't know you exist. This will just be another _vor_ hit, with no thought that it is anything more.”

“What about his allies?” Wolfgang asks, voicing the Cluster's concern. “What if Anatoly’s people look for who's responsible? Now we fight them _and_ BPO?” He tries not to think that at this moment, Kala is vulnerable, unconnected from them, while BPO waits for an opportunity to take her. It's small consolation that she's in a different room, in a much busier part of the hospital, well-guarded by Viktor's men, by Jude, and as of 2 hours ago, Felix.

But none of them are _him._

“Have a little faith in your _tyotya_ , _plemyannik_ ,” she says. She calls him “nephew”, her tone slightly chiding, but not playfully so. She is very serious. “Things are moving quickly, but it's to plan. And your problem will be resolved. And so will ours.” She mutes the phone for a moment at the sound of a male voice, talks to someone Wolfgang presumes is Alexander. When she gets back on, she sounds weary, but firm. “Go back to your woman in India, Wolfgang,” she says. “You have a ticket to Goa waiting for you at Domodedovo. Flight is tomorrow at 5 in the morning. Yeruslan will take you. He'll pick you up at 3. I presume you're not going to get much sleep anyway.”

He doesn't deny it. “Tyotya Anna,” he says, before he can reconsider, before she can end the call. He flounders a little before he states flatly: “I didn't expect you'd be capable of that.”

She laughs a little. “You didn't?” she asks, and she sounds oddly offended and defensive at the same time. “What ideas you must have,” she says, genuinely intrigued. “Your mother was very kind, very soft. But we were raised _Bratva_. She married Anton because we're _Bratva_.” Anna gives a short huff; he imagines her shrugging her shoulders. “And I'm the elder. I wasn't just raised to this life. Do you understand what I'm telling you, Wolfgang?" She stops, thoughtful. “What I did on that roof? It is not the worst of my sins.” And she pauses, adds under her breath, like a catechism: “' _Bozhe milostiv budi mne, greshnuyu.’” ‘God be merciful to me, a sinner.’_  
…

At precisely 3 in the morning, the Tatar is parked outside of the motel, waiting. It's with an eerie sense of deja vu that Wolfgang meets him. They say little to each other while Yeruslan drives, but it's almost companionable, the quiet. When they arrive at the airport, Wolfgang takes only a carry-on and leaves the rifle and the clothes he'd worn, even the shoes, in the trunk.

“ _Proshchay_ ,” he tells the Tatar. Goodbye.

“ _Do skorovo_ ,” Yeruslan smirks back. Until next time.  
…

The flight to Goa is more than 10 hours long. There's no shift in his consciousness, but Wolfgang tries to reach Kala. He feels illogically disappointed when he can't.

It's 3 hours into his flight when he startles awake: He hadn't realized he'd even fallen asleep. Jude sits in the empty seat next to him. “Come with me,” Jude says grimly.

In a blink, they're both in the home in Anjuna, inside the bedroom Wolfgang shared with Kala. The room is completely upended: The dresser drawers are turned over, their contents strewn on the floor. The mattress is propped against a wall; the altar Kala had so reverently and lovingly created for Ganesha lies scattered by the night stand, flipped over on its side. Wolfgang's fists clench at the desecration.

“Where's Lucy?” he asks quietly. “Was she home?”

“Thankfully she's not here.” Jude picks up the night stand, begins to set the makeshift altar back to rights. “Yesterday, those men from the company came here, asking questions. She was afraid they'd come back; said she wasn't staying here until I was back for real. She stayed with friends after work; thank God. I just got here to shower.” He looks around at the destruction, his expression deliberately blank. “The rest of the bedrooms look like this, too. Downstairs, you'd never know.”

Wolfgang looks around, inventories what's left in the room. “ _Verdammt_.” 

His gun, which he'd left for Kala and she'd kept in the top dresser drawer, is gone. But more importantly, Kala's laptop, typically hidden between the mattress and the slats of the bed frame, is gone too.

“ _Scheisse_ ,” he mutters. “Did you call the police?”

Jude shakes his head. “No. We probably won't.” He gives a rueful smile. “We're not the kind of people who typically call police. I wanted you to see.”

“And Kala?”

“Doctors were checking her when I left.” Jude drags the mattress to the bed, pulls it onto the frame and sits for a moment. “One of your men is still there with Felix. The other one and I will be back tonight. They expect Whispers sometime tonight or tomorrow. At least, that's what Kala's doctor said.” He frowns. “They're expecting a fight.”

Wolfgang nods. “Don't worry about Whispers,” he says. “But I'll be there tonight.”

He leaves Jude but doesn't return immediately to the plane.

Instead, he visits Nomi; tells her the laptop is gone.

Nomi's in a car with Amanita, listening to a phone app tell them to turn left in 2 miles. Considering her distress from the previous day, Nomi takes the news in stride. “That's ok,” she says. “Kala didn't put identifiers on her subject data. She knew who each was.” She frowns, considering, as she continues to talk: “Besides, it's not as if they didn't already have this data through their own research and the research done by Rajan's company. Or Limited Solutions. All the new stuff. . .” Nomi swings her blue gaze at Wolfgang, sitting in the back seat. “What about the flash drive?” she asks. “Where is it?”

“I don't know.” He pauses, tries to think, but Kala never worked on the serum while he was with her.

“We saved everything onto that flash drive,” says Nomi. She's thoughtful for a moment, before she asks Wolfgang: “You know your white shirt? The thin one? Linen? With pockets?” It takes a moment for him to recall which, but he nods. “Check the pockets. I bet it's there.”

He's back in Anjuna immediately and helps Jude rummage through the clothes scattered around the dresser, the closets. They find the shirt under bed sheets near the bed. Wolfgang recognizes it immediately; he'd worn it his last day in Anjuna. The flash drive is in a buttoned pocket. Jude takes it for safekeeping.

When Wolfgang tells Nomi they recovered the flash drive exactly where she thought, she looks relieved and gives a smirk. “Kala's been sleeping in that thing since you left,” she tells him.  
…

7 hours into his flight and he wakes again, to Kala staring softly at him, her mouth quirking into a faint smile.

Wolfgang sits on a chair beside the hospital bed. His head rests on his arms, next to her pillow; his neck is stiff as he raises it to smile sleepily back at her. Felix is on a chair by the window, head buried in a game on his phone, Kala's back to him. Neither of the Russians is in the room; no one else is physically there besides Kala and Felix.

Kala reaches a hand to cup Wolfgang's face. “Hello again,” she says, her voice wistful.

He's not sure how he could have missed the feeling of their connection returning. Wolfgang turns his head to plant a kiss on Kala's palm. “ _Schatz_ ,” he murmurs. “How do you feel?”

“Better,” she says, her voice low. “The pain isn't nearly as bad. I will probably go home tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” He repeats doubtfully, noting the monitors she remains attached to. But there's no EEG; there's no drainage tube. “Is that safe?”

She nods, then suddenly stills. Her brows furrow, and her face lights. “I feel everyone: I feel Will.” She smiles, carefully tugging at each of her connections; the rest of the Cluster just on the edge of her consciousness. He watches as the joy wanes and her expression shutters as the implication hits her. “Is Whispers dead?” she asks quietly.

“Yes.”

She takes this in. Her frown deepens before she gives a quick breath. “Then we're free,” she says, her voice even, accepting.

He shakes his head, watches her closely.“Not yet.” He holds her hand. “BPO still exists; those men are still here for you. They broke into Jude's home. Your laptop is gone.”

Kala closes her eyes to think, shakes her head; the hand he doesn't hold flutters a little, “I don't think there's anything in it they don't already know,” she murmurs. “I was careful. Everything we've done recently is stored in my flash drive.”

Wolfgang gives a little exhale of relief. Kala shifts a little, worried. “You need to see if the flash drive is still there.”

“We found it, _Schatz_ ,” he says. He can't help the tilt of his mouth. She notices it immediately, flushes a little and looks indignant before she gives a rueful smile, sighs.

“I've missed you,” she says simply, and the truth of her statement is in the steady gaze she gives him, unashamed to be so vulnerable, so trusting. It steals his breath, buries the gentle humor he'd felt in something that threatens to overwhelm him.

“I've missed you too.” He strokes her face gently. “I'll be there soon.”  
…

His plane arrives in Goa without any delay. He's greeted unexpectedly by an enthusiastic Felix, and not so surprisingly by one of Viktor's men, the lean one from the hospital.

“This is Nos,” says Felix in English, introducing the Russian.

Wolfgang's mouth quirks. “Really?” he asks, shaking the man's hand. “ _Nos_?”

“ _Da_ ,” responds Nos. They both glance at Felix. Nos shrugs: Wolfgang doesn't bother explaining that “Nos” is probably a nickname, since it means “the Nose”, but the irony isn't lost on either Wolfgang or the Russian.

Felix fills him in on the relatively quiet morning with Kala, talking in the excited German that Wolfgang misses while Nos drives them to Anjuna.

“I can't believe you left Kala to meet me,” Wolfgang tells Felix, amused, during a break in Felix's narrative. “What if Whispers’ men return?” He's not really concerned, with Kala connected to the Cluster again and Jude back at the hospital with the other Russian.

“About that,” says Felix, side-eying Nos a little nervously. “We won't need to worry about those two any time soon.” He coughs deliberately, eyes wide. “Or maybe _ever_.”

Wolfgang stares, surprised, before he nods, his gut twisting a little. He'd been warned by Viktor, and while a part of him is shocked, he'd be lying if he didn't admit he's also relieved. “Does Kala know?” he asks.

Felix shrugs. “Probably.” He glances meaningfully at Nos. " _Die sind komplett durchgeknallt_ ,” he says. _They're completely crazy._

Wolfgang wonders what he'll say to Kala, two more deaths attributable to him because of his arrangement with Viktor. He gives a quiet exhale, nervous for that discussion, knowing she'll be horrified. Both sides of his family are fucked up.

As if on cue, his smartphone rings. _Speak of the devil._

“When you get somewhere with decent reception,” says Viktor without preamble, his voice for once betraying excitement, “go watch the news. The government has frozen Anatoly’s assets, and they're looking into his investments. Including BPO. It's begun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's only one, maybe two chapters left. Thank you for sticking around! <3
> 
> Of course, thank you to KinoGlowWorm for not just fancy Russian but Russian folktales;-)
> 
> And thank you Scaredofuhlek for giving Felix his German voice:-)
> 
> As always, comments are much appreciated!


	38. Home

 

Will and Riley visit Kala together, not long after Wolfgang leaves. Kala struggles to contain a wide smile at the sight of Will; he grins and gives her a gentle hug, asks how she is before he takes a quick look around and tells her she doesn't need to answer. "I see your goons are here," he says with a grimace, nodding at her Russian guards.

Kala looks furtively to the corner where Nos and his partner, Vitya, are talking quietly. Vitya had left earlier with Jude, but just now returned alone. Felix is there as well, watching television by her bed, but it's not his presence that worries her. Felix catches her glance at him and tips his head at her odd expression before his face lights up and he wags his eyebrows at her. "Is Wolfie here?" he whispers  _sotto voce._

"No."

"But someone else?"

"Yes."

Felix's eyes dart quickly around before he gives her a conspiratorial wink. "Hey boys!" Felix stands and interrupts the conversation between the Russians. He says something to them that causes three pairs of eyes to look back at Kala before they all quietly file out of the room.

"He's handy," chuckles Riley.

"Yes." Kala smiles back, feeling a surge of affection for Felix that is wholly independent of Wolfgang's. "Yes," she repeats. She turns her eyes to Will, gives a shrug. "I'm doing much better; I'm being released tomorrow. But  _you?_ How are you?"

" _Me?_ Jesus, Kala, you must have hurt like hell." Will gives a faint huff at her dismissive shrug. "How's the pain?"

"It comes and goes." Kala smiles reassuringly. It is much more manageable now than the first night, although she finds it's too draining to visit her cluster. "And  _you?_ " she prompts.

Will sits on the edge of her bed, squeezes her hand with the one that isn't holding Riley's. "I'm perfectly fine; 100%. And it's thanks to you. You gave us a chance for a life while we ducked Whispers and BPO." He stops and looks carefully at her: "You know I'm here only because Whispers is dead?" he asks bluntly.

Kala nods, her face taking on a thoughtful expression. She looks at Will steadily as she voices a question she'd been turning in her head since earlier that day: "Did Wolfgang kill him?" Will and Riley exchange glances. Kala looks at them both and adds quietly: "I just want to know. He hasn't told me."

Riley gives a soft sigh. "We all agreed we'd try to stop Whispers if we have an opportunity," she says. "And we did. He and Wolfgang were supposed to be in Moscow within a day or two of each other. Nomi found out Matheson was meeting an investor at the same conference Wolfgang's aunt was at. Wolfgang called Anna for a favor."

 _Another favor_ , thinks Kala, catching her lower lip against her teeth.

"Your new med mimics disconnection for 10 minutes," Riley was saying, "maybe longer. We don't really know. Remember how we thought that was a problem? Well we thought we could use that to our advantage; make Matheson think Will is still disconnected while we...," Riley's hand flutters, as if sweeping away the unpleasant reality that they all actually planned a murder. "Will is an excellent shot, and Nomi's friend has a connection in Moscow. For weapons." She looks over to Will.

He gives a slight shake of his head and continues: "I was supposed to share Wolfgang's body and  _do_ it. Take the shot. And I did. But instead -," Kala has a sudden shared memory from Will: the firm, cold feel of the rooftop pressed against his/Wolfgang's body, shoulders and neck achy from a position held for too long; heart racing, mindful of time and opportunity slipping as he watches people on a deck several buildings away. She sees Wolfgang's aunt, Matheson, another man; hears a pop against his ear.

Kala's eyes grow wide. Her grip is tight in Will's hand.  _Anna?_

Will frowns slightly. "Yeah...The man that was killed was someone kinda important," he says, "but he had enemies high up; they may look into who's responsible, but they won't look too closely. What they  _will_  do is look into his business dealings. He was loaded, and everyone wants a piece of it. Anna is right about that. It certainly brought attention to his connection with Matheson. Nomi agrees it'll bring down BPO faster than a rumor of BPO's involvement with Russian mafia."

Kala nods. She lays back against her pillows as Will recounts events she's missed, but Kala's attention drifts inevitably to Wolfgang.

She knows now why Wolfgang hasn't said anything to her: why there was an added tension about him that she thought was attributable to his debt to Viktor.

She knows him well enough to understand that Wolfgang always believed his mother was above everything: above the Bogdanows' ruthlessness; above the violence and roughness surrounding her; above being part of the Bratva. Despite signs to the contrary, he'd believed it of Anna, too: She is his mother's sister. To see Anna act with such cold deliberation. . . Kala can feel Wolfgang's shock, and her heart aches for his disappointment.

The knock on her door shakes Kala from her thoughts. Doctor Shah returns with a nurse to talk to her about her discharge, and before he arrives at the foot of her bed, Will and Riley are already gone.

...

In the late afternoon, Kala catches fragments of Nos' phone call in Russian. She presumes it's with Vitya. Whispers' men are dead. She thinks about this even as Vitya returns with Jude and Nos leaves with Felix to pick up Wolfgang from the airport.

It takes Kala a moment before she removes her heart monitor and sits up, carefully swings her legs to dangle from the side of the bed. She waits for the pain to subside before she tightens the strap of her hospital gown and reaches for the handles of the walker that Jude brings to her. His hands gently support her as she eases tentatively up and takes a step, then two, then more, her bare feet pattering softly on the cold linoleum floor.

At the foot of the bed, she pauses, turns to look at Jude. "I'm good," she says firmly.

"You're sure?"

Kala nods, smiles. "Jude, you are  _not_ coming with me."

He looks puzzled before he realizes she's heading to the washroom. He lets her go with an awkward laugh.

Vitya gets up and opens the door since the washroom is closest to him. "Madam." He waits patiently while Kala edges by and nods her thanks. Vitya closes the door behind her.

Kala locks the door, stares at her reflection in the mirror for a long moment. She had intended to wash up before seeing Wolfgang again: untangle her knotted hair and wash some of the weariness from her face. Lucy had thoughtfully dropped off toiletries the previous day. It matters to Kala that she looks presentable when Wolfgang sees her in real life again.

But instead, Kala thinks of a rooftop in Moscow, and sees Anna pushing Whispers over the ledge. She thinks of Vitya and Nos, and she imagines a messy gunfight killing Whispers' associates. She thinks she should feel something - horror, fear - but all she can feel is ambivalence. Maybe, if she is honest, relief.

Kala rouses herself to brush her teeth and wash her face. She wets a towel to clean her arms: There's glue from tapes where the IVs had been, and she scrubs carefully away at the sticky residue. She pauses before morbid curiosity gets the better of her: She leans back against the sink, lifts the gown over her abdomen to stare at the sutures. She counts almost 24 stitches, closing the opening the surgeon had made to shift aside organs, look for damage. It replaces the neat bullet hole and mars the smooth plane of Kala's belly. She touches around the area gingerly; thinks with a wave of regret of the beautiful red bridal lehenga that sat low to her waist. It would expose the rough line of the scar.

"You survived." Sun sits on her haunches and looks critically at the sutures. She turns Kala's hip, checks the stitches closing the exit wound, nods. "These will heal nicely. The scars won't be so large. Besides," she adds, a martial gleam in her dark eyes, "they suit you. You  _are_ a fighter."

Kala gives a shaky laugh. "Thanks." She lowers the gown gently. "But I won't be a perfect bride."

Sun stands up and leans against the washroom door, tilting her head, eyebrows raised. "Won't you?" she asks.

Kala turns her attention back to the mirror. She wets the comb, applies it to the tangles. "I can't hide the scar," she says quietly, focusing her attention on her hair.

When it's clear that no further words are forthcoming, Sun frowns and stares hard, trying to gauge Kala's mood. "There are many things we need to reconcile with ourselves when this is truly over," Sun says bluntly. "We  _must_. We're no longer just...us."

"I know." Kala gives a faint huff, pausing at a particularly difficult knot. "But…" She doesn't finish her thought, frustration and uncertainty underscoring her words. How to explain her sudden moral crisis, because she  _isn't_ having a moral crisis? She feels no remorse in knowing Whispers is dead; that his associates were killed, probably by the man currently in her hospital room. Her true fear is in the impact of the last few days on Wolfgang: In the unspoken debt he owes to his family, and what it could mean for them. "I know how I  _should_ feel," she says quietly. "But I don't feel that way. At all."

Sun relaxes a little, gives a faint smile. "Don't over- think it," she advises quietly. "You will drive yourself mad going in circles, wondering what  _should_ be rather than what  _is_. Be glad that you've survived. Give thanks for  _that."_

Kala works the knot in her hair. She thinks of BPO and Whispers and the research she'd found at Rasal Pharmaceuticals; of data culled from real people. She was almost another name on that list. She doesn't regret Whispers' death. Or of his men.

Kala untangles the knot, turns her head, but Sun is no longer there.

"Thank you," she says anyway.

…

Kala insists that Jude go home; Lucy is there and leery of being alone. She tells Jude that Whispers' men are gone, but doesn't say how she knows this. Neither of the Russians said anything to her about them.

She's alone with just Vitya for company when Wolfgang finally arrives, later than expected, Felix and Nos behind him. Wolfgang's haggard face lights up at the sight of her, and she can feel her own answering smile. She doesn't notice that her hands are outstretched for him until he holds them in his. Their smiles grow wider at the frisson that passes between them.

Wolfgang bends to kiss her forehead gently. Kala releases her hold to curl a hand around his neck and brings his head back down for a proper kiss. She smiles into his mouth at his surprise, licks along his upper lip and tastes a faint sweet mint. He'd been smoking.

"I've missed you so much," she says fiercely, and he laughs at the unexpected greeting, touches his nose to hers.

"I've missed you too," he says. He moves away from her to speak briefly with Vitya and Nos. The Russians take their leave without much discussion, giving polite nods to Kala and Felix as they go.

"Did you send them away for good?" she asks. He pauses, glances quickly at Felix, and she leans back against her pillows. "I know they've already gotten rid of Whispers' men." Wolfgang suddenly stills.

"I  _told_ you!" Felix's groan is almost comical. "You can't hide  _shit_  with this mind stuff."

"I sent them home." Wolfgang looks at Kala with a wariness that wasn't there before.

"And I know what happened in Moscow," she adds quietly.

Felix looks from one to the other, clearly confused, but feeling the tension that suddenly palls what had been a happy reunion. He murmurs his excuses and exits, barely noticed by either of his friends.

"You know about Anna?" Wolfgang asks cautiously.

Kala nods.

He gives a humorless smirk, shakes his head. "Well, what do you think?" he asks her, folding his arms across his chest, eyes challenging. "Seems all this time, it wasn't just my father and his family who were monsters."

Kala's eyes glide over his face: There's a barrier again between them. She can feel it. Her brows furrow. "They are not you," she says sharply. He gives a shrug, smirks back, and she is suddenly engulfed in a wave of defeat: hers, his, she can't tell. It's as if he feeds her images of every horrible act he's ever committed, beginning with his uncle. "You promised me you wouldn't go," she says accusingly.

His eyebrows lift in genuine surprise. For a moment, he looks confused by her statement.

Wolfgang shifts his stance, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I didn't say I'd go," he answers. He watches, but her expression doesn't change. "I promised I'd be with you as long as you want me. I still mean it."

But she can feel all his old self-doubt bubbling just underneath the surface; a worry that he's born of evil.  _Why would she want him to stay?_

Kala's face softens. All this time together, and he still feels unworthy of not necessarily  _her,_ but of a  _good_ life.

She pats the space beside her bed, a sad smile ghosting across her lips. He gives a pause before he takes the few steps, and, at her insistence, settles carefully beside her on the bed. She nudges, and he puts his arm around her, lets her lay her head on his shoulder.

"I don't know your family," she says, her hand resting on his chest. "But I know  _you_."

She thinks of their time in Berlin, in Goa, and all the moments in between. There is good in him, and she pushes deliberately back against his darkness. She feels the tension ease slowly from his body. He settles back, holds her carefully. "Do you?" he asks. "Do you know me?"

"Yes,  _mera Jaan_." She hears his heartbeat, firm and steady, beneath her ear. He's tired, and Kala lifts her head slightly to look at him, drags her fingers through his short, dark hair. "I kind of like this look," she says teasingly, watching his face wrinkle in disdain. He captures her hand, kisses it as she sighs and lays her head back on his shoulder.

"Then I'll keep it like this for you," he says, settling fully on the narrow bed, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

Kala gives a light chuckle, and closes her eyes. They lay in silence for several minutes.

She knows the exact moment when he falls asleep and follows soon afterward.

...

Wolfgang is permitted to spend the night in the room. When the nurse leaves after the last check, Kala eases over and they lay together in the hospital bed. He wakes up early in the morning before any of the staff return and settles the hospital bill in cash while Dr. Shah meets with Kala.

She's told that the doctors aren't sure what to make of the aberrations in her vitals and EEG, but they're not convinced of the  _accuracy_  of the brain images they'd been given, either. She's admonished to see a specialist, given instructions for follow up care for her wounds, prescribed non-narcotic painkillers and an antibiotic, and is finally released. Felix waits for her and Wolfgang outside and drives them back to Jude's place, where he's also staying.

Lucy and Jude wait with a honey cake to celebrate Kala's return. Lucy herds them into the kitchen where she cuts generous slices and insists that everyone take a piece. They sit or stand with coffees or teas, talking in low voices about the crazy events of the last few days following Kala's shooting: the men that arrive to question Lucy, look for Jude; Lucy's suspicion that she was followed; the ransack of the bedrooms. Lucy gives a shudder. "I thought Jude was crazy when he didn't want me to get help while you're bloody  _dying_ in front of me!" she says, eyes wide. Wolfgang squeezes Kala's hand, and she knows he'd feared the same thing. No one asks what happened to the men, or whether Nos and Vitya are still around. Without speaking of it, it's presumed that the problem is fixed.

Felix comments they need better locks and bolts and offers to take care of it with Wolfgang; it's the least they can do for Jude's hospitality.

"Do you think BPO will try again?" Jude asks. He glances beside Felix, and Kala knows his cluster is there, interested in the answer.

Wolfgang shakes his head, and Kala smiles at their own Cluster, settled in the kitchen, various states of clothing, listening: Nomi, Will, Riley, Capheus, Lito, Sun.

"We'll have to wait and see, but I doubt it." Wolfgang looks up at Jude. "They have bigger problems to deal with, now."

...

In the next few days, there's little news by way of conventional outlets outside of Russia: There are blurbs of Anatoly's murder, footnoted references to the man who fell to his death during the assassination. There's bolder news in the Russian papers that identify Anatoly as the head of a Russian drug cartel and confirm that the Kremlin froze his assets pending investigation. There had been speculation as to who was responsible for his death. Then Russian news goes radio silent.

Nomi finds a flurry of activity on the Internet on encrypted network sites that Amanita references as "dark web" or "deep web". All of Anatoly's immediate associates are busy disposing of or disguising incriminating material. It's not difficult to track who's who, once Nomi cracked cross-sites:  _vor_ that were openly operating can't bury themselves deep enough.

By the end of the week, reports begin to leak to mainstream media about documents showing Anatoly's involvement with quasi-private drug corporations: that he'd used them to further his illegal drug operations. An anonymous document dump to a western news service implicates BPO as a recipient of Anatoly's investment. It takes no time to link Matheson to BPO, and BPO to several nervous government organizations who'd provided funding and opened their research facilities.

Sun recognizes some of the information in the document dump from the Amsterdam records. She's peering closely at Nomi's computer screen when she finds what she's looking for: her company's name - or rather, its trading symbol - on a ledger, and initials that are more than likely her brother's beside it. The dates overlap transactions she'd questioned, and it's a way to connect her brother to the embezzlement of their company and the growing scandal consuming BPO. It's a project Nomi can sink her considerable hacking skills into.

And then silence in the mainstream news: at least, for those not with a vested interest and diligently scouring social media and other potential sources of information. Like Nomi. And Jude's Cluster-mate.

As predicted, government funding is quietly suspended to BPO pending investigations. Another anonymous document dump, a week after the first, implicates BPO in unethical research practices. Information on BPO becomes still more difficult to find.

But the traffic on the Internet, for those who know how to find it, is frantic: The facility in Iceland is shut down, and a warehouse in Chicago is suddenly descended upon by police and federal agents. Diego messages that the video from outside the abandoned church on the west side - where Will had seen Angelica kill herself - is a hot commodity.

The signs are promising enough that Nomi hires an attorney to feel out the possibility of her and Amanita coming out of hiding.

And Kala expresses a longing to see her family.

She raises the subject one morning, smiles and teases that it's time for Wolfgang to meet them. She invites Felix to come and provide moral support: Her father already likes Felix.

Wolfgang rolls his eyes and acts reluctant, but he's nervous and excited to meet her family. There's been no word from Anna or Viktor: She'd promised he can walk away. She seems to have meant it.

And it  _is_ time that he meet Kala's family.

So a little over a month after Kala returns from the hospital, she, Wolfgang and Felix say goodbye to Jude and to Lucy, and take a long drive back to Mumbai.

And head home. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thirty eight chapters later and I finally finish what was supposed to have been a brief epilogue to "The End and the Beginning ".
> 
> Thanks to everyone for reading, leaving kudos, comments or messaging me: It gets tough slogging through a multi-chapter story, and your encouragement kept me going! (And really, Female Overlord 3, you rock.) Thanks to those who took the time to correct a detail (Fannishfrenzyluff stands out ;-) ). Believe me, it's much appreciated! 
> 
> Special thanks to KinoGlowWorm, Foulbearhideout, and Scaredofuhlek for translating random dialogue out of context and Kino in particular for being an awesome beta reader. (Same to my sister.)
> 
> I can't wait for the Christmas Special and Season 2! I miss Wolfie and Kala :-)
> 
> Wanna talk? I'm on tumblr at Gear65.


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